


The Hunt

by TheArborealWalrus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Chases, Chiss (Star Wars), Duelling, Duros, Enemies to Friends, Father-Son Relationship, Jedi, Kallidahin, Mentor/Protégé, Mirialans (Star Wars), Organized Crime, Polis Massan, Racism, Reform, Resistance, Ryloth | Twi'lek, Trandoshans (Star Wars), Twi'leks (Star Wars), Wookiees (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArborealWalrus/pseuds/TheArborealWalrus
Summary: M'rut is the favored son of one of the clan elders. His size and ingenuity mark him out for greatness amongst the clan. All this changes when an incident causes him to lose all standing in Trandoshan society and be hunted not just by his peers but by the Empire as well. Now he is set on a path of vengeance and redemption from which he cannot turn.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. The Hunt Begins pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tvrrerd the wookie chieftain awakes to find his village is under attack. Will he be able to save not only his village, but his family too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a mad lad and went back to reformat the style of my older chapters. If they aren't like this yet, then I haven't gotten to them. Not 100% on it for these big text chunks, but at least it's easier typing in the code for a tab (which more breaks it like a new paragraph, which it technically is) in this then my current stuff. So much dialogue. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the updated style.

Kashyyk, 11 BBY

Tvrrerd woke from his sound sleep to the sound of explosions. 

“Impossible!” he thought, stumbling out of bed. His village was too small to be worth the attention of raiders. Another explosion put paid to that idea. He continued to the living room of his family's wroshyr tree, finding that only his youngest was in the house, staring wide eyed up at him. He knew his mate was at the far end of the village, helping her friend to fix a damaged fluttercraft, but his absent eldest was the one that worried him. The boy had a habit of running off on foolish adventures with his friends at the oddest hours. It figured that he would be out during this. Tvrrerd kneeled down to his youngest and said some of the hardest words he's had to say, “I know you're scared my boy, but you must be brave.” … he swallowed down his own fear, looking into his child's terrified eyes, “ Take the catamaran behind Uhnchichuhn's shop and fly as fast as you can to kachirho. Tell them what is happening here.” 

A shaky nod followed by a hug. Zhishi was never one for words. 

Tvrrerd picked up his bowcaster before they both padded silently out of the tree. The generator was ablaze, casting mad shadows over the village. The sound of blaster fire and roars echoed through the darkened canopy. It was worse than he had thought. This wasn't about supplies, whoever was doing this seemed intent on their destruction. “But why risk it?” he thought. They were an hour's flight away from the capital, kachirho, not to mention being of little strategic importance. He and Zhishi continued to move towards the market as Tvrrerd pondered this. He saw only the bodies of his people. Fortunately none of them were dead, although they didn't wake when he shook them. That left a rather disturbing implication on the purpose of this attack. Slaver raids hadn't been seen for decades, whilst he remembered hearing of them, they were something that hit poor freighters on the space lanes, or isolated villages, not here. This new empire certainly wasn't doing anything for his village now. “Martial law will help to secure the planet from emerging threats in this trying time and help repair the ravages of the clone wars on the galaxy.” He hadn't bought it then, and now he knew the truth of it. The empire hadn't increased security at all. Now he just had to reach the defense tower once Zhishi was safely away.  


Uhnchichuhn's shop was right around the corner in the maze of the market square. Tvrrerd heard roars from further down the market street, that wasn't good. Overturned tables and baskets of dried fruit littered the thoroughfare, punctuated by the bodies of more of his kin. At the far end of the street he spotted them, and suddenly it all made sense. A lone wookie towered over the pack of hated reptilian foes. 

Trandoshans. Brutal, greedy, and cruel. The trandoshans had been the traditional rivals of the wookie people for millennia. If it was them than things were worse than he had suspected. They had surrounded … of course it was Uhnchichuhn. The stubborn fool was too pig headed to be taken down with simple stun blasters. The trandoshans seemed content pinning him in place with their goads though. He couldn't escape the ring of slavers, but what were they waiting for? As the pair of wookies edged closer Tvrrerd saw what the monsters had been awaiting. Another pack, larger, with a truly massive brute at its head. It might even be as large as Uhnchichuhn. Zhishi looked up pleadingly at his father, but Tvrrerd shook his head, they had to keep going. Uhnchichuhn was on his own. A reptilian roar of challenge echoed throughout the square as they picked their way through overturned stalls. The slavers were too enraptured by the spectacle of the brute dueling Uhnchichuhn to notice the pair sneak into the other wookie's shop. Trinkets, jewlery and other things that Tvrrerd considered junk were scattered haphazardly on the floor. It appeared that Uhnchichuhn had disrupted some looting. The trandoshans were certainly wasting no time. Fortunately the back had been left open and on top of that the catamaran was still there. He leaned in to check, fueled. Good. Tverrerd knelt and hugged his son before providing some last minute encouragement “You can do this my son. I'll go and get your mother and brother, but you must warn kachirho. Do you understand?”  


“Yes, papa.” Zhishi sniffled.  


“Good lad.” With that Zhishi started the engine, unfortunately no doubt alerting the trandoshans that they had more prey.  


A salvo of blaster bolts struck the hull of the catamaran as it took off. Tvrrerd dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the second spray. Two trandoshans had entered the shop armed with acp repeaters, short ranged bullet hoses well suited to their species' general lack of accuracy. One was sqaut, barely able to see over Uhnchichuhn's workspace, while the other was gangly and sported the piercing red eyes of a killer. Tvrrerd was certain that that those hadn't been stun shots. He charged up a bolt in his bowcaster as the pair advanced. He jumped from behind the tool covered counter to level a shot. It had been almost 13 years since Tvrrerd had fired a bowcaster in anger but his bolt struck true, instantly impaling the smaller trandoshan to the floor. With a hiss the killer let rip with his repeater. Most of the shots went wide but several ripped into Tvrrerd's back as he tried to make his escape. He lunged through the door, landing heavily, only to see a young, terrified trandoshan staring down at him. Without thinking, he threw himself at the intruder, a slew of shots ripping from the gun as its hand reflexively tightened. He grabbed the scared whelp's arm as red eyes appeared in the door. He squeezed the youngster's fingers, letting rip a salvo straight into red eyes' chest. Those were stun shots, he realized as the trandoshan fell twitching instead of in a spray of blood. All the young hunter could do was stare dumbly at his hand as Tvrrerd started to make his escape. Just in time too as four more trandoshans turned the corner. The largest hissed something in it's native tongue, pointing at Tvrrerd. A wave of indiscriminate fire chased him as he fled down an alley, his fur smoking from multiple impacts. He should be able to circle back around to reach the defense tower. From there he could reactivate the auto turrets and hopefully drive off the slaver scum. He however hadn't counted on the pack cutting off his escape down the alleyway.  


The brute that had been dueling Uhnchichuhn stood grinning in the middle of them, waiting for Tvrrerd to make a move. Foot falls from behind him told him that he was out of orthodox responses. The monster however had clearly forgotten what he was dealing with. A shower of splinters and shattered panels rained down on the abandoned shop front as Tvrrerd smashed through the building's wall. A curse followed by shouted orders rang through the market as dozens of feet pounded paneling in pursuit of Tvrrerd. For all their fame as hunters the trandoshans lost him in the maze of alleys and branches that he crossed. They certainly hadn't given up yet. As he perched in a branch he could see his pursuers spreading out, trying to cut off his escape. If this had been a town on Tatooine or Mygeeto they likely would have caught him by now, but they hadn't thought that he might bypass the intersections using low branches. Clever, but not clever enough. He dropped onto the rooftops before loping closer to the tower. What he saw made his heart sink.  


Two small freighters were landed with their bay doors open and his friends were being carted in on hover pallets. There must have been almost a hundred trandoshans moving to and from the landing pad by the tower. To make matters worse, he saw what was unmistakably a gunship by the bulbous turrets sprouting from it like a disease. He was no longer certain that the auto turrets would be enough to win this fight. He needed a plan. That's when Tvrrerd heard his eldest son roaring out his defiance. His head snapped in that direction. Sure enough Grruuhn was slowly being led towards the landing pad by a pair of trandoshans. They were perhaps 50 meters from where the street exited onto the clearing before the platform. Just close enough that he might be able to grab his son and get away without drawing the entire horde. He HAD to do it. This wasn't just a fellow villager, this was his blood. He had to act. With a huff he leapt down upon the leading reptile.  


A sickening crunch erupted from its spine as Tvrrerd landed. He raised his bowcaster and let fly an uncharged shot into the startled trandoshan's throat. With a bubbling gurgle it collapsed, clutching at its ruptured neck. 

Grruuhn stared in disbelief at his father and then at the two bodies. “F- Father? Wha-” 

Tvrrerd cut him off before he could finish the thought. “We need to move. Now.” His son nodded shakily and they headed away from the slavers' base of operations. Now he just needed to find his mate, Ighrall, and they might -  


A dozen trandoshans walked out from the side streets in front of him to block the main thoroughfare. He swiftly turned to the nearest alleys only to find them similarly occupied. Already knowing what he would find, he turned back to the way that he had come from. Sure enough there was the brute from the market at the head of another band of slavers. He could finally get a good look at the beast. It was perhaps 15 centimeters shorter than himself and he was considered fairly large. Its scales were a mottled collection of dark green on black, causing its piercing yellow eyes to be even more striking for the contrast. It wore a black, loose canvas jumpsuit with a beige vest over its torso with a split cord leading down from its ear holes. Unlike all the others it carried no blaster, only a force pike casually dangling in one clawed hand. It was a set up.  


“Chieftain Tvrrerd. Exxpertly done.” The brute said in a deeply accented imperial basic as it walked past the still twitching bodies of Grruuhn's guards. “I see that your skills from the clone wars haven't dulled.” If he hadn't been so focused on the black scaled behemoth he would have found the fact that several of the trandoshans were providing aid to the guards as though they might be saved interesting. As it was he was much more invested in the gunship which began to buzz overhead. A tinny voice spat out something in a series of hissing growls. Black scale grimaced before gesturing to one of its subordinates. A blade was produced, a wroshyr blade, one of his peoples'. It tossed the curved wooden sword at Tvrrerd's feet, saying in an almost excited tone “We will battle. If you can beat me, the boy goes free,”  


“Father ...” Grruuhn whispered.  


Tvrrerd shook his head to silence his son before picking up the blade. More trandoshans joined the onlooking crowd as Tvrrerd looked over his given weapon. Satisfied, he gave blackscale a nod and prepared himself.  


Blackscale grinned before pressing a small button attached to the cord hanging from his head. They circled each other for a time. Tvrrerd tested the trandoshan's defenses multiple times, but no opening appeared. Black scale seemed content to continue this probing game, nodding his head as if it agreed with him. If he could keep this going for long enough, reinforcements from Kachirho could arrive to save his people. If the creature wanted to play, Tverrerd wasn't going to force the issue. Almost as if it heard his thoughts the trandoshan began its assault. A slow but steady rhythm of attacks from its staff. It was relentless. Downward swing, upward counter, side swipe, jab, counter. They continued their dance for a little over a minute, the crowd, raucously cheered their champion. Even the gunship had returned to watch the spectacle. “Glad I'm such a hit with you monsters.” Tvrrerd thought, grimacing. Both of them had suffered multiple small injuries, but the trandoshan's weapon was set for stun. Each hit drained a little more of his stamina. Zhishi had left perhaps 40 minutes ago. He should almost be at Kachirho by now. Unfortunately Tverrerd was certain that he couldn't keep this going for another 10 minutes, never mind 40. Black scale broke from the clash . Tverrerd took the opportunity to catch his breath as it circled, grinning. Smug bastard. The crowd went dead silent, then, like a switch had been turned a fresh onslaught began. The tempo of these attacks was faster, harder. As a jab narrowly missed his head, the reverse struck out, pushing him away. Robbing his blow for its ribs of most of its force. Black scale was tireless. He had heard of trandoshans' regenerative abilities, but he didn't think they applied to their stamina. Perhaps he was just getting too old for this. His reactions were slowing. He was tired. Blocking one strike sent a ringing impact up his arm, he went to parry its follow up but had miss timed it. The blow sent his blade flying out of his hands. The next launched him backwards, his head spinning. Darkness crowded his vision like hungry predators closing on wounded prey. The crowd erupted into cheers and whooping. Black scale pressed the button on the cord around its neck and turned to bask in the adulation of its minions. Tvrrerd had landed next to the blade and knew he would get no better chance. He made one last desperate attack.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The song wound down as the wookie fell. His father's men cheered, for it had been a good fight. M'rut reached up and turned off the player and raised his arms to accept the praise of the crowd. Even his father looked down from the open bay of the gunship. A successful hunt he would say. Three duels and dozens of captives, the Imperials would be pleased as would the clan. A good day. A scraping sound from behind him alerted him that something had gone wrong. He turned just in time to see chieftain Tverrerd leaping at him with his sword raised. Everything slowed down. The gasp of the crowd faded into the background. The hunt was back on, and he was the prey. Fascinating. He brought his pike up to block, but was too slow. The blade sank into his side. Blood sprayed out. By some grace of the Scorekeeper, the weapon caught in his ribs instead of puncturing. M'rut bared his fangs and held the blade in. The wookie had a look of surprise on his face as M'rut brought his skull straight into his flat muzzle. A CRACK resounded through the “arena.” Tverrerd stumbled back, but M'rut still held his arm. There would be no escape. The force pike struck into Tverrerd's torso, sending out arcs electricity coursing through his body and up into his captor as well. It was now a contest of will and brawn. Long, painful, seconds passed as arcs of power coursed through them both. The chieftain gritted his teeth and clawed at M'rut's arm. It was no use. He was no longer young, and had been exhausted from both the flight and fights of the day. M'rut frowned as the thought struck him. It was fortunate that it was so, he wasn't sure he would have survived his earlier mistake otherwise. The pain and convulsions as his muscles fought against him mattered little. Victory was his. Tverrerd fell into unconsciousness and was at last dropped to the ground.  


Scores of his clan cheered and swarmed over the fighters. Tverrerd and his boy were put in irons while M'rut was hoisted aloft. Papa, never one to smile lightly, gave him a curt nod of respect before returning to the bowels of the gunship. The clan hooted and roared. And why not? One of the council members' sons had completed his first mission as an adult. This surely boded well for the black scale clan. Revenge against the wookies, a pile of credits, and the patronage of the Empire. None of the other clans would be able to match the plans made by his father. Even now, similar missions were going on all over the planet. They would be bringing in the most slaves, and there was nothing the other clans could do to surpass them. The rights to hunt on Kashyyk would belong to the black scale clan. Today was a good day. None of the hunters had even been killed. Not that some of them wouldn't be recovering for months, but trandoshans are notoriously hard to put down for good. A good day indeed. There was but one thing that bothered M'rut as the prisoners were loaded into the freighters. Most of the wookies had been unarmed. Surely there wasn't as many points in capturing unwary prey? He could already hear his father's rebuttal, “That is merely a mark of our skill, and thus not worth any less points.” Sure, the adjudicators might even agree with him, but in M'rut's heart it felt wrong. An opponent should be armed and dangerous, not asleep and defenseless. His siblings always teased him, saying that he only got away thinking like that because of his size. Perhaps they were right. The transports lifted off and M'rut stared at the burning village until they reached orbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought that the audience needed to see what M'rut did for a living from the eyes of one of his victims to get an idea of where he starts. I am quick to point out how M'rut is not a "good guy" like Captain America who does the right thing always. He does lots of horrible things, many of which he wouldn't apologize for. Well, I hope you enjoyed!


	2. The Hunt Begins pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M'rut's doubts have been bubbling under the surface as he is put in command of his first mission. Will he succeed? Are there unforeseen dangers awaiting him? Find out! (I was feeling dramatic as I wrote this description)

8 months later, a dropship over Kashyyk

“You're full of it M'rut! The Scorekeeper only cares about the children of Dosha.” Said an exacerbated D'hirt.  


“She watches us ALL though.” M'rut whined.  


“She would have to watch them to give us points based on their deeds.” interjected Isskk.  


“But why does that mean that they get to go to paradise? For that matter, why do you even care?” D'hirt groused.  


“If they can go to paradise, then that means when we capture slaves, we're denying them that!” protested M'rut.  


“If they allow themselves to be captured, then they don't deserve paradise. You know that.” Isskk said in an attempt to sooth M'rut with the familiar platitude. And like that, M'rut deflated in his seat.  


“I know. It just doesn't feel right.” M'rut said, looking hopefully at his eldest hunters. 

D'hirt was a small, stubby creature, barely taller than M'rut sitting. His drab green scales were shined almost as if they had been waxed and his pot belly fought against his black jumpsuit. It wouldn't be wise to underestimate him though, Dhirt was wily and had the trophies to prove it. Quick to outbursts and anger, but just as quick to forgive. Usually. Isskk was a direct contrast to D'hirt. He was tall and lanky with dulled olive scales. Cold and seemingly emotionless, he hunted with precision and guile. In that moment it was clear to Isskk that, despite his size, M'rut was still barely an adult. Isskk's heart went out to the boy, but this was not the place to be having second thoughts on their career choices. Maybe he'd tell the boy's father to assign him some mercenary work when they got back. It was usually cleaner than - 

“Hah!” Leave it to D'hirt to make things worse. “Underneath that big, tough exterior is the heart of a softie!” 

M'rut stood up at this. 

“Please don't keep digging D'hirt,” thought Isskk. 

No such luck. “What? Are you going to the orphanage back on Dosha to – Urkkk!” 

M'rut hauled D'hirt up to his eye level. “One more word and you'll be feeding the blood worms” M'rut growled. 

D'hirt, clearly not threatened, grinned, saying “There's our ruthless killing machine!” 

M'rut dropped him. “Let's get this over with.” he sighed.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The leaders of this mission exited the captain's quarters. A dozen hunters sat in their restraint webbings, cleaning weapons, and idly chatting about what they were going to do on the hunt. All turned to face M'rut. When he had their attention he addressed them “We drop 2 kilometers from the village in 5 minutes. Be Ready” A general murmur of approval rippled through the crew as M'rut took his own seat and buckled in. 

“Taking after your old man?” Isskk teased. 

M'rut's reply was a grunt. 

“That's a yes,” D'hirt added. The elder hunters snickered at M'rut's scowl. 

His first command. Cleaning up after another raid had missed some wookies. Easy, but still important. The less information the wookies had on the attacks, the better for the clan. The Empire was also insatiable in its desire for slaves. If the rumors were to be believed, they were no longer bothering to keep their operations on Kashyyk a secret. They were growing more and more bold. M'rut had a bad feeling about them. He supposed that it might just be how the few high ranking Imperials he'd met were universally either mad or foolish. Perhaps it was something in their food. Too many preservatives? He knew that he was just trying to distract himself from thinking about the mission. So many things that could go wrong. D'hirt meanwhile was chattering animatedly about how he had gutted a gundark to the novice next to him. As he turned to his left, Isskk was watching him with his too perceptive eyes. 

“You brood just like your father,” he mused. 

M'rut did not want to respond to the verbal prompt and settled on a grunt.  


“Just like him”  


M'rut growled. 

Isskk settled back into his seat with a self satisfied grin on his face. Distraction accomplished.  


The bay doors opened on the fifth canopy layer just above the shadowlands, the ground floor of Kashyyk. Arguably one of the most dangerous habitable areas in the galaxy. M'rut's team spread out and activated their low light visors. This far down it was almost pitch black, and the last thing you'd want is to tumble from one of the innumerable walkways the wookies seemed to build everywhere. “Teams of three, five meter spread, and move toward the marker on your H.U.D.s.” Close enough to support in a firefight, but spread out enough to avoid explosions. The slightly larger team sizes allowed them to better respond to an ambush should they encounter one. A solid approach. All in all, he thought his father would approve. A spider the size of a kath hound skittered away from the encroaching hunters, while hawks as large as a man loomed overhead. M'rut would just be glad if the spider didn't gather more of its fellows and attack as they were reported to do. He might enjoy returning to hunt the creature another time, when they weren't armed with stun weaponry. For now though, his team had to make it through its nest. M'rut pulled his foot from yet another bundle of webbing. He was reasonably confident that it had been a juvenile version of one of the hawk creatures. The spider made no attempt to attack M'rut or his team. A few more minutes of picking through its leavings and they could see the beginnings of what had once been a hunter's compound.  


The walls and what little of the buildings he could see were covered into vines and brush that would usually grow on dead wroshyr trees. There were two things odd about that. One: If wookies had reclaimed this compound then they would have removed the parasites from the buildings, at least to prevent them from endangering the power grid. Although they might have left them there to pass as empty. But more importantly, two: The bushes were interfering with sight lines from the wall. No warrior worth their weight would want to hand the enemy an advantage. Something was definitely off about this. This was the only compound close enough to the village the other team had attacked, at least before the shadowlands. If they weren't here, M'rut was certain that they wouldn't be finding them. The hunters cautiously passed through the open gate to the compound. M'rut took off his goggles, allowing his natural infrared vision to take over. He saw several of his hunters mirror his actions. Looking around, it quickly became obvious which house was occupied. It sat on an upper platform and radiated heat almost as if it was filled with warm blooded bodies. He held up his hand, bring the team to a halt before directing them with a few gestures to surround the hut. They were silent as the wind ghosting its own path through the leaves. As he got closer M'rut heard soft, terrified voices emanating from the hut. These weren't like any wookies he had heard before. This mission just kept getting stranger and stranger. As his hunters took their places, M'rut gave the signal. Wood splintered, roars and shrieking lit the night.  


As the screams died down and his warriors secured the prisoners M'rut was shocked by who they had caught. These weren't fearsome wookie warriors seeking to regroup and free slaves. These were children, hatchlings. Perhaps one was old enough to be considered for the adulthood trial and he was presently attempting to shield his smaller kin. It wasn't that which troubled him. It in fact brought a note of pride. “That one would be a great warrior one day,” M'rut thought as the boy glared his defiance. No, it was the looks of absolute terror on the hatchlings' faces that finally caused something in M'rut to break. As it broke, so to did the clouds. Rain began to pour on this revelation. These weren't fighters capable of defending themselves, these were children being met with figures out of their worst nightmares. This was wrong. M'rut was not going to let this continue.  


“We're done here. We're leaving.” One of the hunters reached to grab the hatchlngs. M'rut snapped at him, “There's nothing worth points or credits here. Leave them.” The warrior hesitated before complying. A murmur went through the team. Despite not understanding what was being said, the wookies knew something had changed as well. 

Isskk and Dhirt noticed it too. M'rut was standing taller, the air of fear and nervous energy had lifted off of him like a cloak. He was certain, daring anyone to challenge his decision. Neither of the elder warriors were stupid enough to take that bait. Unfortunately not all of the hunters had been gifted with such foresight. 

Laig, a larger member of the team, stepped forward, glaring daggers at M'rut as he shouted “You would leave our quarry to escape?!” A murmur of agreement rippled through the trandoshans. 

“There are no points in capturing children, Laig. We've wasted enough time here,” M'rut replied, his anger on a tight leash. Another murmur of agreement as the rest of the team began shifting to be as far away from the smaller trandoshan as possible. 

Laig was oblivious to this and kept digging “You would dare to defy your father's orders?! Don't be a fool!” 

M'rut grinned at this and leaned towards the unfortunate warrior. “Are YOU challenging your team leader?” he said icily. 

Laig's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. It was too late however. 

M'rut, in one fluid motion, picked up Laig by his jumpsuit's collar and threw him towards a quickly emerging gap in the other hunters. The wall detonated under Laig's weight and he landed on the platform below in a shower of splinters. As he raised his stunned head, M'rut crashed down, bringing a swift kick to Laig's snout. Bones cracked. M'rut grabbed him and raised his claws to finish him. 

Laig shielded himself and shouted “I yield, you win!” as the rain drenched the combatants. 

M'rut by rights could kill him, but it was no more a fight than the children had been. He lowered his arm and stood up. He offered his hand which after a brief pause, Laig took. He knew that there would be more challenges to his leadership after this, but M'rut was resolute. Slavery was an injustice on all judged by the Scorekeeper. To hell with the Empire's contracts. 

Laig kept his eyes down as to not offend him further. 

Good, he could deal with Laig later. For now, he turned to see his team and even a few of the braver wookies staring down at him with a mixture of awe and terror. “We're leaving,” he said. The team broke from its stupor and rushed to follow his command. 

As they left, his eyes met the eldest of the young wookies', the child gave a nod of thanks. 

M'rut returned the gesture. He was certain that those children would be able to make it out alive. As they trekked back to the shuttle, M'rut thought “A good day.”  


The air about the cargo bay was subdued compared to the ride down. Hushed whispers dominated the scene. The only one who seemed unaffected by the encounter was D'hirt. His unflappable confidence well in place. Isskk on the other hand seemed highly agitated. M'rut gestured for them to follow him to the captain's quarters. As soon as the door closed Isskk burst out saying  


“What you did was wrong. There are traditions that you've broken, not to mention the political storm you've just brewed.”  


“Pfft. He's team leader. What he says goes on this. Even the council has to respect that.” Dhirt casually countered.  


Isskk whirled on D'hirt, “Contracts must be fulfilled!” Isskk began to pace as he continued, “Ignoring the shame of returning empty handed, he's disobeyed a council member's orders!”  


D'hirt had had enough and stood up saying, “Like that's never happened before? “ He impatiently tapped his foot. “At worst he'll get a stern talking to and a handful of trash jobs as a slap on the wrist. It's not like he was wrong about the points anyways. Where's the challenge in hunting kids?”  


During the entire exchange M'rut had his back to the pair, staring at the his growing trophy rack. Having finally had enough “advice” he spoke, “Thank you both for your insight, You are dismissed.” 

Somewhat perturbed at being so summarily discharged, they hesitated before complying. When the door closed again, D'hirt fondly shook his head saying, “Just like his father.”  


M'rut ran through the scenario over and over in his head. He simply couldn't see himself changing his mind. Honor had to be upheld. The black scales were the mightiest clan on Dosha. To sully their claws with ... children. No. Unacceptable. There were better ways of earning points than slavery. He'd use his punishment as a chance to locate them. He'd scour the adjudicators' libraries, find contracts that fit. He could convince his father, he just needed evidence. The hard sells would be the rest of the council, but once papa was on his side, it might be possible. A reasonable plan. He could make this work. He stared at the wroshyr sword earned on his first mission as he thought of what he would need to do to survive the inevitable assassination attempts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing D'hirt and Isskk. They have fun chemistry, especially with M'rut. Poor Laig, he was just trying his best. Most trandoshans work on instinct. This doesn't always work out, but it also makes those who don't much more dangerous.  
> I had to make up a lot of details on Trandoshan society based off of what little I found in the legacy section for them on Wookiepedia. The Scorekeeper is their god. She watches all people's deeds and judges them worthy or not. Every action has a point value assigned to it.  
> There are only two ways to lose your points. 1: To betray the one that you owe your life debt to. This is similar to, but not exactly like the wookie life debt. There are generally more restrictions on it, although a trandoshan can technically declare it at will. They're less common than with wookies because of the insular nature of the trandoshans themselves. Either party can dispute the claim to an adjudicator. Adjudicators in my canon are the equivalents of priests and are responsible for the both morality and record keeping of the Trandoshan people. Not connected to any one clan, they often serve as go betweens and intermediaries. They have final say on issues of points and I imagine there to be different sects within the clergy. 2: Being captured. I personally don't quite agree with this one, but it is very clearly stated to be the case. Maybe it's something to do with their hunting based society? I imagine trandoshans don't generally capture each other or go to great lengths to explain that they are "not prisoners." It's a whole awkward dance for them. Removing the points from a member of another clan could start a blood feud. Emphasis on blood, so they often try to avoid it. I hope you enjoyed reading!


	3. The Hunt Begins pt3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power players move in the background as M'rut is forced to face the consequences for his actions.

2 weeks later, Black Scale 3rd Fleet Flagship

“I don't want anymore of your excuses, Vaax! I want the one responsible dealt with or the Empire will be forced to deal with you personally. Sturn out.” With that the holographic imperial general blinked out. 

A full second passed before Vaax smashed the holocommunicator to bits. Normally he was calm and collected, but this insult was too much. No one disrespects the black scale clan and lives to brag of it. Not under his watch. A message would have to be sent. He looked across his desk. Pictures of all his clutches lay amidst the debris of the communicator. 13 children in total and none of the others had the right mixture of characteristics to take the black scales beyond their current power. His eldest son lacked the necessary vision, his 3rd eldest daughter could be the one, if she wasn't so … sadistic. No. None of the others were suitable, which made what must happen even more difficult to do. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out another comlink.  
“Isskk, the time has come.”  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

M'rut walked into his father's office flanked by Isskk and D'hirt. It was small for someone on the council of elders, but then Papa was not really like most of them. Wheels within wheels, or at least that's how D'hirt liked to describe him. Nothing out of place, his own ebony scales shined and well cared for. Describing him as a neat freak would be distinctly unhealthy, but not inaccurate. M'rut personally would go with controlling. It wasn't the disorder that Papa minded, it was his lack of control over it. His office spoke to this. A desk made of stained wrorshyr wood with family portraits scattered in clusters across it. A lamp with the skull of an acck dog as the shade lit his desk and there was ... M'rut was surprised. A lone scratch marred the center of the desk where there often was a holocommunicator. Huh … well, M'rut doubted it would survive the night. The walls were lined with trophies too small, or too personal to be displayed in the dining halls. A republic officer's cap sat next to a CIS tactical droid's shattered optic. There was a braid of hair preserved in glass and a tooth he had been told was from the krayt dragon decorating the main dining hall. Above them all sat a lightsaber, firmly attached to the bulkhead. No sense in offering weapons freely to potential adversaries had been his father's reply when M'rut had asked in his youth. It was why his wrorshyr blade too was bolted to his quarters. Where there weren't trophies there were shelves packed to the brim with datapads and old leather bound books. The odd skull served as bookends. M'rut had seen all of this many times over the years so he payed all this little mind. His father sat, still as a statue, staring at him. “Unreadable as always” M'rut thought. Although there was an air of intensity to him beyond the normal.  


”Son, do you know why I've called you here?” his father asked, standing up. Always tests with him.  


“I presume to assign punishment for the failure of the mission, Papa.” He nodded.  


“Who is the primary buyer of our services?” an interesting direction to take this.  


“The Empire for slaves and the Hutts for our soldiers.” These weren't exactly hard questions, what was going on?  


“And who is in control of the space around Dosha?” There was a point here, M'rut just had to find it.  


“The Empire officially controls the space lanes Papa.” It was a job from the Empire, okay, but what did that have to do with his punishment? The Empire had received hundreds of slaves in the last shipment, what did 20 or so children have to do with anything?  


“The clan prides itself on its success rate. No one clan boasts such impressive scores or distinguished clientele.” Papa began pacing, a steady lecture tone and pace around his words. 

Wonderful. M'rut doubted that this was the limit of the punishment, he had after all heard many such diatribes before. He was to be tortured before the real punishment began? * Sigh * Well, there was no avoiding it. Papa went on like that for a few minutes. Telling him of beneficial tax rates and lucrative deals on starships, all from the Empire. M'rut perked up at mention of the destruction of a shipyard. Perhaps his job was related? It would be nice to be free of his moral turmoil surrounding slavery and hunt some rebels. Dangerous? Certainly. M'rut was confident he could do it however. 

Papa was staring at him, seeming to wait for something. He shook his head before continuing. “No one insults the black scale clan without cost. Even our most foolish enemies know better than this.” 

Not where M'rut thought this was going. He had misunderstood something. He needed to think of what, fast. A long pause occurred as his father stared at him.  


“Wookie slaves rebelled and destroyed the shipyard.“ * Boom * like a punch to the gut it hit him.  


“The Empire claims that this is because they lacked the 'leverage' of the children.”  


They blame him?  


“They demand the one responsible be made an example of.” Papa nodded at the end of this statement. 

M'rut began to protest “But, Pap-” but was cut off as two arcs of electricity arced through him. Isskk and D'hirt loomed over him as his vision faded to black  


M'rut thought that he heard shouting as he fogged into consciousness briefly, but he passed out again before he could mince out the words. He finally awoke, manacled to the floor and ceiling as well as strapped to an almost vertical surgery table. His mind recovered quickly. He looked around the room. Dark and dank. He saw only a single lumen hanging from another chain on the ceiling. Blood caked the floor leading to a drain. Probably one of the torture rooms M'rut mused. Rarely used, but Papa always did like them “just in case.” … Papa ... He … was making an example of him … !!!! He had been captured! … His points were … gone, and the only way to get them back was … to kill his captors. M'rut wasn't sure it could look much bleaker than this. He tried pulling his chains experimentally but it was no use. Papa wasn't one to take chances. Seemingly summoned by his rattling, a previously hidden door opened. Isskk and his father walked in. There was a tray of tools on a suspensor being pulled by Isskk. A curved bone blade, scarred and pitted from use sat next to a jar filled with some strange lime colored liquid. Oddly a medkit sat ready for use as well. It seems he was wanted alive. Wonderful.  


M”rut snarled at his father who remained as implacable as always. Isskk attempted to mirror his master but M'rut could tell he was agitated. It was in his posture. It spoke of a desire to be doing something else. Interestingly D'hirt wasn't present. Perhaps he was guarding the door. No words were exchanged as Papa began to prepare his tool. None were needed. Their relationships had been set when he had ordered his capture. The blade was lathered in the substance which hissed and bubbled. That did not bode well. His father held the blade to M'rut's face, and brought it down in an agonizingly slow cut. To his horror the substance burned like a brand even after the edge passed. He resisted the urge to cry out, instead baring his teeth in a futile gesture of resistance. M'rut knew what was being done. It was almost impossible to leave a lasting injury that didn't kill the trandoshan. Especially for one as young as M'rut. A powerful acid would have to be applied … repeatedly. … Over the course of days. Cold dread passed down M'rut's spine as he realized what was going to happen. He would be marked. Every trandoshan who saw him would know that he had been captured … that his points were gone … He would be an outcast. This more than anything else made him thrash against his bindings. His father grabbed his head in an iron grip and continued his methodical cutting. It lasted for days. He'd be left alone for, the Scorekeeper knows how long, before it would start again. It was excruciating, but M'rut refused to cry out. He would not dishonor himself further by doing so. After the first time Isskk did not reappear. Perhaps he did not have the stomach for it or perhaps he was away on a mission. M'rut couldn't find the will to care. Another for his list. Should he make it out alive that is.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

M'rut had passed out again after Vaax had passed the knife over his optic nerve. “That should do it.” M'rut had done well he thought, no screaming, no begging, and constant attempts to escape. He'd have to teach him better escape tactics when this was over. But at last he could get the barking imperial off his back. His clan would be safe, and he had thought of how to get his boy his points back while teaching the imperials a lesson. All in all, a very clever ploy, he mentally patted himself on the back. It was time to call the arrogant stuffed shirt. He pulled out his holocomunicator and connected to the general. After a few moments to confirm his identity, the toadie who answered put him through. 

“Vaax, I hope you have good news for me.” He sounded annoyed. As though he wasn't following the bastard's order. 

Vaax let none of this show on his face. Useful on the council, vital here. “Yes, the one responsible has been made an example of.” He showed M'rut's ruined face as proof. There was an audible pause before general Sturn said anything. Perhaps he was shocked by the vile nature of the punishment? No, Vaax knew that he wasn't that lucky. Something else was wrong.  


“You cut his face?” Sturn finally ground out. He was visibly restraining himself. 

This was the gravest punishment a trandoshan could face. What was the problem? 

His face must have let something slip for the general continued in escalating volume, “He lets my shipyard be destroyed by his little stunt and all you do is give him a scar!!” 

Vaax rallied to explain what it meant, but it was too late. 

The general was through being reasonable. “Enough Vaax! You will give me that worm and I will deal with him. Your incompetence has made me question the nature of our relationship. Be glad that I don't call the fifth fleet to remove you.” 

For the first time in a decade, Vaax was stunned. 

“Bring him to me in 3 days at the shipyards. You will receive further instructions when you arrive. Sturn out.” With a last sneer the tiny dictator disappeared from Vaax's palm. 

*CRUNCH* He was livid. Three insults to not only himself, but the clan and his boy! He was going to kill him! The entire Empire would pay! He would drown them in their own blood! He was … going to run out of holocommunicators at this rate. Vaax rained in his fury. There was more than one way to skin a gundark, he would just have to alter the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Vaax. He's a hard man, but it can't be easy to do that to your son. (of course by human standards he's still a monster, but ...) Fortunately for the clan he's more devious than he lets on. What are his plans for the general and his son? *devious laughter* You'll have to keep reading. ;)
> 
> I should also mention that all of this is a prequal to a star wars force and destiny campaign that we are currently playing. So not everything is exactly as I would have written it once that starts. Not saying that it's bad, I just find myself wondering how things would have gone if I had kept this as a seperate timeline. Instead of the Empire's treachery M'rut seeks to change trandoshan society all while dodging council politics and hunters seeking his blood. ... Do I have an AU for my incomplete fanfiction already? *sigh* Well, I hope you are enjoying my story!


	4. The Hunt Begins pt4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Imperial transfer of M'rut doesn't go to plan.

3 days later, In orbit above Bothawui

M'rut awoke as the door opened. His father, Isskk and D'hirt were all there, there was an air of anticipation about them. Perhaps this farce was at an end? M'rut didn't know what they had been waiting for, but he was heartily sick of his dark holding cell. There weren't even any rats to watch while he had been left alone. … Alone with the shame, the anger, the … betrayal. At this moment M'rut didn't care if he lived or died. He might as well be dead as far as his clan was concerned. … No points … A weight on the clan's shoulders. Papa undid his bindings before placing a set of manacles on him. Was he to be freed? Face trial on Dosha? Did the Empire want him? He supposed he would find out soon.  


“You're not dead yet boy.” his father admonished. 

The first words his father had spoke in what felt like weeks, and that was it? Always lessons with him. His father was right though, there might be a chance to escape yet. He wasn't sure what they had in mind for him, but he was sure he wanted no part in it. They dragged him through the halls which were normally bustling with trandoshans going about their day. Today it was completely deserted. They must have cleared it to transfer him. But why though? What about this did papa not want getting out? So he wasn't going to Dosha, and M'rut doubted he was to be free … Almost as if to complete the thought for him the airlock opened to reveal an imperal officer flanked by two stormtroopers. The Empire it was then …  


“You're late.” The officer stated blandly.  


“It takes time to safely navigate such a busy shipyard with a vessel this size,” Papa said, attempting to placate the officer. 

He was clearly uncomfortable with the whole affair. He tried to brush past this saying “Fine, fine. Let's get this over with.” 

His father wouldn't be dissuaded however, “A gift for making you wait,” Papa said offering a small satchel. 

The officer gingerly took it as though it were a diseased thing. 

Every trandoshan could smell the unease coming from the humans. M'rut guessed that his father was toying with him on purpose.  


“My … thanks,” he cautiously replied, handing it to one of the stormtroopers. 

Dhirt and Issk shoved M'rut forward into the imperials.  


“He's all yours now. Give my regards to the general.” Papa said this last looking at M'rut, or at least that's what he thought. It happened so fast, he might be mistaken.  


“Right … of course.” The officer squirmed, uncomfortable with the politeness from “monsters.” 

Without a backwards glance his father and his old friends left the airlock to the imperials and their prey. 

The officer spat on the ground before saying, “Let's get out of this rust bucket.” The stormtroopers nodded and then shoved M'rut forward. He didn't resist. Better for them to think him beaten.  


They pushed him into the shuttle. M'rut didn't fit through the door and had to crouch down and sidle in. As he raised up from ducking down the 4 additional guards looked startled at his size. He was over a foot taller than all of them.  


“Secure that “thing” for transport. I want to be out of this vermin nest as soon as possible,” the officer said as he passed them. 

M'rut decided then, that if he did break free in here, he'd save that one for last. The stormtroopers pushed M'rut into a human sized seat. He awkwardly hung out of it. All but one of the stormtroopers began to chatter at one another. M'rut didn't pay them any mind. He was searching for a way out. The quarters were tight, rows of seats created a narrow funnel up to the cockpit and back to the side hatch he'd been brought in through. There was a metal grate blocking access to the cockpit with some sort of locking terminal. Most of the guards were standing in the aisle while one stood by the gate, his vision to M'rut blocked by his fellows. He tried his cuffs, not expecting much. To his surprise, they began to yield almost immediately. Interesting. Now he just needed a distraction. 

Almost on que a shuddering rattle tore through the shuttle. The stormtroopers looked around at the noises coming from the ship. The noise was soon followed by a *chunk, chunk, CLANG!* as something vital gave way. 

“What the hell is happening?!” cried one of the troopers. 

M'rut gave a wicked grin, he didn't need another invitation.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Officer Tralt wasn't sure what he had done to be assigned babysitting duty for some stinking alien. A trandoshan no less. Between the carrion reek and leering yellow eyes, he was certain that there were few worse prisoners to guard. Well, in 15 minutes it would no longer be his problem.  


“Shuttle 1B to the Valiance, requesting permission to dock.”  


“Confirmed shuttle 1B, you are cleared to proceed to docking port 4 in five minutes.”  


“Good, I need a shower after dealing with those things. I'll never understand why Sturn works with them.” The pilot gave a non committal grunt in response. Speaking of those things, he supposed that he should see what the “gift” was. With such brutish creatures it wouldn't surprise him if it was filled with grubs or skulls. He pulled out the rucksack. Rough, but … surprisingly well made. He grimaced as he prepared to face the horrors. Inside was … a data pad? Some cylindrical device, and … a music player? Certainly more civil than he'd expected, but why? He shook his head. Aliens. Just then the ship shuddered.  


“What was that?” he demanded of the pilot.  


“Feels like we lost a stabalizer, I'm trying to compensate.” the pilot's shaky voice did not fill Tralt with confidence. He looked over the status screen, but everything was in the green.  


“Turbulence?” he asked.  


“The sensors say the lane is clear. This doesn't ma-” just then a deafening *chunk, chunk, CLANG* sounded though the cockpit.  


“What is happening!?” Tralt screamed. This wasn't right. This was supposed to be an easy transport, not – 

A scream was audible through the bulkhead. 

Oh no. He opened the door to a scene of pandemonium. One of the troopers assigned to him had his throat ripped out. All but one of the rest were in a brawl in the aisle. 

The trooper standing guard at the door turned at the sound of the door opening. He looked back at the furious trandoshan barreling through the others before lunging for the opening. 

Tralt slammed his fist down on the lock command. 

The trooper screamed for him to open as he beat on the grating. 

Tralt closed the adjoining door to the cockpit and locked it as well. Curses and rattling echoed behind him as he went for the com link.  


“This is shuttle 1B, the prisoner has escaped, please advice.” The pilot appeared to be near panicking as well but remained at his seat. 

The curses turned into a shriek that abruptly cut off with a *SNAP!*  


“ Valiance to shuttle 1B, head immediately to docking port 4. A security detail will be there to handle the situation.” 

The operator was infuriatingly calm about their IMPENDING DOOM! Just pretend its not there, sure that'll work when its eating your guts! Idiot! As if to reinforce this point the sound of metal ripping came through the wall.  


“It's going to break through!” the pilot shouted.  


“That door is made of durasteel with a reinforced frame. Just stay calm and we'll be alright.” Tralt spoke with far more ease than he felt. To be honest he wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure, himself or the pilot. 

Fortunately it seemed to calm the pilot who went back to trying to control the wildly bucking craft. 

*THUD!* There was an uncomfortably large dent in the “impenetrable” door. “We're going to die,” he thought as another dent appeared. Tralt scrabbled at his holster before finally pulling out his pistol. “Keep flying!” he ordered the pilot. He needed to keep it out until they got to the hangar. Easy. His hand was shaking only because of his heartbeat. Yeah, he'll blast that lizard when it – The door was catapulted out of its housing, straight into Tralt. He felt ribs shatter alongside the bones in his upper arm. The pain was unimaginable. When he opened his eyes again he was greeted by the black scaled monster lifting him in the air. It was hard to breathe. This was the end. Killed by a - 

“This is for my clan.” It hissed. 

A cold dull pain began to spread from his stomach. As he drew in breath to scream the world turned sideways and he thought no more.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The enormous reptile had snapped the lieutenant's neck. It seemed not to notice pilot first class Fivri as it dug its hand in Tralt's chest cavity. He dropped the blaster pistol he had been attempting to draw. It clunked down on the metal deck. 

The creature snapped its head to glare at him. 

He was not proud to admit that he wet himself at the sight of the towering monster, covered in blood, elbow deep in his superior. 

Pulling its bloody claw from Tralt's torso it dropped him without a second thought and stomped up to his seat. 

This was it.  


“You are a pilot?” it growled at him.  


He shakily nodded his head. The commlink started asking for a status report.  


“You're taking me to the surface,” it declared with a menacing hiss. 

Fivri nodded and resisted every instinct he had telling him not to turn his back on the creature. Likely death later was better than assured death now, right? *gulp* It did not take long for the Valiance to decide that blowing them out of the sky was an acceptable solution. The already jittery ride became punctuated with near misses that sent the shuttle rocking. The pilot decided that if he managed to land this thing, he would be the greatest pilot in the 5th fleet. To hell with those aces. Barely functional engines? Check. High traffic environment? Check. And now the tie fighters were getting into range. This kept getting better and better. Somehow, the stupid lizard was sitting in the other chair, rifling through the bag Tralt had been looking through as though nothing was wrong! He wasn't paid enough for this. Hell, he wasn't going to keep his wings anyways for “aiding a known terrorist's escape.” Maybe the rebels were hiring? Almost through atmo, now he just had to - An explosion ripped through the rear compartment, sending the shuttle into a tail spin. He said with what he felt was a great deal of restraint, “We're going to crash!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be unnecessary, but I wanted to show how scary M'rut is to the audience again. Might be considered beating them over the head at this point. Oh well. My test reader initially was confused when we switched to the pilot's perspective, so I went and generated a name for him. In the past I've been told how I name too many characters and it gets confusing. Whoops, managed to pull the opposite.  
> The Imps seem to not be very nice. Must be something in the water. Also Vaxx seems pretty good at playing with them. What even happened to the ship? >:) Not quite sure what I'm using these for. Partly to tell you some of my thoughts as I was writing this, partly ... rambling? Hopefully you're enjoying what's going on here!


	5. The Hunt Begins pt5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M'rut finds aide from an unexpected source in his attempts to elude the pursuing Imperials.

4 minutes later, Bothawui surface

M'rut awoke to find that he had indeed not died. His head was swimming though. There was … light pouring in from … holes in the ship. … The crash! Of course. Everything came flooding back to him. He had to get out of here. Who knew how long he had been out? Imperials could be arriving at any moment. He picked his battered frame off the deck and took stock. A cracked rib or two and more bruises than he cared to count, but he was otherwise whole. The engines were visible through the “door” and were leaking smoke. “Likely going to explode,” he thought. The pilot was surprisingly still alive, groaning in his restraint webbing. M'rut felt it dishonorable to leave him to certain doom and ripped through the webbing with his claws. It felt like carrying a child as he picked up the human and his father's “gift” bag. The hull was ruptured and it took him little effort to widen one of the holes to fit out with his charge. Smoke and debris made visibility next to impossible. Too much heat to even see warm bodies. All he could see for sure was that they had landed in a city. He doubted that trandoshans were common wherever he was. Sirens wailed and M'rut caught the sound of boots on rubble. He turned to see a trio of Imperial army soldiers, likely from the garrison on this planet. 

They spotted him and shouted “Blast it!” 

M'rut didn't give them the chance and lobbed the pilot's unconscious form at them. They landed in a writhing heap, scrambling to get out from under each other. Three punches and they stayed down. M'rut sighed as he saw how close they were to the soon to be exploding shuttle. He trundled away carrying them all like floppy planks of wood and left them at what he felt was a safe distance under a shop stand. A blaster bolt struck his side and he let out a gasp of pain. Another trio of army troopers were opening fire on him from the edge of the smoke. This wasn't what he needed right now. He began an easy hunter's lope through the presently abandoned streets. It was easy for him to out distance the troopers' pursuit with their tiny legs but there were more of them than he could easily hide from. He switched into an alleyway as he saw a crowd of civilians being held back by what were likely local law enforcement. If he could slip out of the current net, he would have a much easier time of escaping. Which brought his mind to getting off world. If he was fast enough, he could reach the spaceport before they posted a warrant for him. For once he was glad for Imperial bureaucracy.  


Climbing the stucco walls of this … market/residential district, wasn't difficult at all with his claws. He'd just have to hope no one looked closely down this alley. The sun was beginning to set at which point his clothes and natural scale color would be an asset. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop as he searched for the spaceport. There were too many shuttles flying around the city for him to localize the port. This was impossible. Just then he heard the familiar sound of a a freighter's engines overhead. There was no way that was someone's personal transport! M'rut had his heading. He was glad that the city was so overgrown. It would have been difficult to elude his pursuers in a smaller settlement where the imperials could just bully their way through. Local rulers would be his saviors now. Well, them and ineptitude. In the streets army troops kicked in doors seemingly at random and generally made the peoples' lives harder. There were more non humans than he thought there might be on an imperial occupied world. Almost 70 percent. Most were some species with a broad muzzle and tan fur covering their bodies and smaller ears than he might have expected. He assumed that this was their home planet, and none of the army troopers were local. He never understood why the Empire insisted on only hiring humans. Wasting resources is what he'd call it. He climbed down a water drain onto the ground floor. 

As he stepped into the main street to the spaceport he was struck by the sheer sound of the crowd. It was like a physical wall. Every single conversation that he passed was about the shuttle crash or the Imperial response. No one seemed sure who or what the Empire was searching for. Good news for M'rut. He was also glad that his jumpsuit was black, it hid the scorch mark from where he had been shot. Still hurt, but the bleeding had stopped. He did find it odd that he was not acquiring anything but mild curiosity and fear from the locals. He guessed that he wasn't the strangest species to visit this planet. Several law officers gave him hard looks, but none questioned his presence. Maybe the Hutts sent enforcers here? Perhaps there were other trandoshans he could book passage with. Almost as if in answer, M'rut spotted a young, tan trandoshan servicing a frieghter. Not one of his father's men, M'rut was fairly certain the kid was from another clan. Well, best foot forward. Right?  


The ship hand was small for one of the lankier breeds of trandoshan, perhaps 6 feet tall. He turned at M'rut's approach. 

His eyes widened as he looked up at his intimidating bulk. “A -a – member of the the black scale clan!?” he squeaked out in surprise. “A pure blooded black scale? I'm so dead.” He backed up fast, almost falling into the engine casing until he saw M'rut's fresh scar. Visible confusion passed across his face and uncertainty warred with fear in his scent. 

Time to make an impression. “Where is your ship going?” Most trandoshans would have tried to establish dominance over the runt to ensure there was no possibility of challenge. By not even acknowledging the injury or his reaction to it, its lack of importance was made clear. M'rut was also more than aware that an overt display was not necessary. He knew his importance, as did the mechanic. Now a more amicable relationship could occur. All of this was communicated by M'rut's choice of response alone and the deck hand noticeably relaxed at this. 

“Narshada, sir,” he answered cautiously. 

He was sharp M'rut decided, still assessing his motivations, being polite until the time was right. Papa liked to say “politeness costs little and may win you many allies.” Time to put it into practice. “I would like to travel with you.” He thought that sounded reasonable. 

The smaller trandoshan looked skeptical, but nodded, saying “I don't mean to be rude, but you smell of blood and that scar. … Do – yurk!” 

M'rut would not brook the implication he was making and grabbed him by his collar. He lifted him up to his eye level and growled, “A hunt went poorly and I seek to return to our space. Will you take me or not!” Okay, maybe he'd have to get better at the whole “politeness” thing. It seemed to have worked though, as the ship hand was nodding enthusiastically. 

“Of course! Of course! Anything for a fellow hunter down on his luck.” 

M'rut didn't really believe that, but he didn't have many options right now. “Good. What is your name?” 

The mechanic perked up at that, “Oh, I am Grohk Voz Vehlez!”  


“I haven't heard of that clan.”  


“Oh, we aren't very big. Just a few ships. Plus we aren't hunters like you. We're merchants. Mostly.” They proceeded to the open hatchway while he talked, where a trandoshan guard watched droids load crates into the hold. 

The guard's eyes widened when he saw M'rut. He pointed his repeater at him and hissed out, “Grohk, who have you brought to us now?” scorn dripped from every word. 

M'rut already didn't like this one. He recognized the type. Insecure and used to being the biggest and baddest in his clan ship. As Grohk stumbled over his words attempting to explain, M'rut made a show of sizing the guard up. This caught his attention as M'rut had known it would. 

The guard bared his fangs in challenge. 

Grohk scrambled out of the way once he saw this. 

M'rut returned the gesture and the fight began. The bully sent a claw lashing out at M'rut's throat. Inexperienced he judged, hoping for a quick end. M'rut had been in far too many battles to not see the blow coming. He stepped back and waited. The guard paused before recognizing the insult. He snarled and rushed in for a tackle. M'rut side stepped and grabbed his arm, using his momentum to swing him head first into the bulkhead. The thunk no doubt resonated throughout the entire ship. 

The guard sat there stunned while M'rut and Grohk waited. “Wow. Hrosst is the best fighter on the ship” Grohk said, staring in awe at M'rut.  


“This won't be a problem, will it?”  


“Oh, most definitely not! The captain might even thank you for bringing him down a peg.”  


“Hmmmm...”  


Just then the interior door opened revealing a small paunch trandoshan looking quite irate. 

“I told you to be careful with those crates! One of those is worth more than … your … mechanical hides ...” The presumed captain's speed and fury died off as he took in the scene.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * His best fighter was lying unconscious on the ground while his junior technician reverentially stared at … a pure blooded black scale warrior who was big enough to make a wookie blush. Right, thought captain Aigru, time to take command of the situation. “Grohk! What's going on out here!?” 

His bellow seemed to awaken Hrosst as well who stared blankly up at the pure breed. “Oh, this hunter was injured and requested transportation. Then Hrosst wanted to fight him.” 

* sigh * Between that boy's generosity and Hrosst's brutish idiocy, they were going to be the death of him. Although there was a bigger concern at the moment. “You haven't been banished, have you black scale?”  


“Not last that I had heard.”  


Hmmm, that would do then. Hrosst stood up and sheepishly picked up his gun. He refused to look the pure breed in the eye. Must have lost pretty bad … while he was injured. Which brought up another concern. “Are you being pursued black scale?” 

The giant looked almost sheepish himself for a moment. 

Aigru realized that he was almost Grohk's age. Huh, that might explain a few things. 

The boy recovered and told him what he had feared, “Yes, I am pursued.” 

Right then. Time for business. The tone of his crew shifted as well. Hunters were in pursuit, there were only two possible responses. “Hrosst, get him inside and lock this ship down until we lift off.” 

Hrosst saluted before gesturing at the giant to follow him. 

“Grohk, Get your father from the market and tell him we need to leave in an hour.” 

Grohk nodded eagerly and rushed into the bustling streets. 

Good. Handled about as well as old Vehlez himself. The next trick would be getting past the Imperials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why, but I like writing interactions between trandoshans. They're very open. When you can smell the emotions of the one you're talking to, lying typically doesn't help. It kind of reminds me of Salarians from mass effect ... but violent. Very violent. Hope you enjoy the madness!


	6. The Hunt Begins pt6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Vehlez agrees to aide M'rut in escaping his pursuers in exchange for his help before arriving on Narshada.

2 hours later, Bothawui orbit  


M'rut didn't like waiting. It felt like handing the enemy an advantage. To pass the time he had been pacing in his makeshift quarters. He had no doubt this too would be declared “just like his father.” The bastard that did this to him. He'd have to kill his own father or both D'hirt and Issk to get his points back. You might as well plan to kill the grand moff of the Empire for all that it was likely to happen. No resources, no allies, he didn't even have a weapon! Impossible was right. He slumped onto the cot that had been provided for him. His foot brushed against a simple backpack … HIS backpack. This was the “gift” for the officer? What was papa playing at? He opened the bag. Inside was a datapad, a retractable force pike, and … his music player? This left many disturbing implications for M'rut, but he was not going to deal with that now. For now he had his music. He put one earbud in and hit play on his soothing sound track. As gentle rhythms played in his ear he turned on the datapad.  


After it booted up it displayed a file. A file on one Imperial general Sturn. “What is it you want from me father?” M'rut wondered. Hadn't his father done enough to him? Now he wanted him to be his personal hitman? To hell with him! He tossed the datapad away. As he continued to brood, the “plan” M'rut had accused his father of made less and less sense, and his father was no fool. Sighing, he leaned over and picked the pad up again. 

General Sturn was a career military officer, commendations at many battles against both rebels and the confederacy. An avid hunter, his psychological profile mentions it as being an obsession. He had been the one in charge of gathering wookie slaves until his promotion to general where he oversaw operations on dozens of planets … and the new Bothawui shipyards. Was under consideration for the position of Moff until the incident that resulted in the destruction of the orbital platform and the deaths of hundreds of Imperial servants. Currently under investigation for negligence. M'rut leaned back against the hull and let out a low whistle. He had no idea how the black scale clan had gotten its claws on this. It looked like an actual dossier. Certainly explained a lot too. Now just what was he going to do with this new information?  


A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” he replied. 

The hatch slid open to reveal Captain Aigru looking a little self-conscious. “Hrosst tells me that you've settled in.”  


“Yes, you have been a fine host.” What was it he really wanted M'rut wondered.  


“Ah, thank you. Now I was wondering if we could discuss payment for your transportation?” He flinched at the end, as though he was expecting a violent outburst.  


“I'm afraid I don't have any credits on me...” Aigru relaxed at the lack of shouting,  


“Well, fortunately I know how you can pay for our services. I'd like you to train my hunters.”  


M'rut raised a scaly eyebrow.  


“Well, Hrosst was our best and you dealt with him like a hatchling. I'm not asking for any black scale secrets, just improve their abilities.”  


M'rut sighed. “Fine. I'll bring them up to speed.”  


“Excellent!” Aigru clapped his hands together. “And if you should wish to pick up some credits along the way, you could join us on some of our missions before we reach Narshada. Until then, I'd like it if you could start the training tomorrow morning. At say, oh six hundred?”  


M'rut nodded his assent. So there was the other foot. 

Aigru grinned and left through the still open door. 

M'rut did not miss the fact that several hunters that had not been in front of his door previously, left with the captain. He couldn't blame him for the precaution. Rules were less strict between two clans. If M'rut had been insulted he could have attacked. He wouldn't, but Aigru didn't know that. M'rut went back to studying the datapad and waited for the ship to break orbit. The journey would give him the opportunity to study what else his father had left for him and figure out what to do with it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

6 hours later, Valiance commander's quarters  


“Get out of my sight you imbeciles!” The junior officers fled the well appointed state room as fast as they could without appearing to run. General Sturn paced back and forth across his bantha fur rug. He had been humiliated. AGAIN! He knew that Vaax was behind this. He had been reluctant to help the entire time and as soon as his chance at redemption was in his hands … Boom! The filthy lizard, what was his name? He picked up the report from his antique desk. 

M'rut. He killed his capture team, crashed an Imperial shuttle into an occupied city and simply disappeared! All the while he had been busy dealing with the magistrate throwing a hissy fit over some doors being kicked in! You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet! Fool! Breathe Sturn, breathe. This was merely another hunt. You've grown complacent from your own success. Every hunter knows that's when you make mistakes. No. This was not over. Sturn grinned as he poured himself a glass of cognac. This hunt had only just begun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

4 weeks later, Narshada orbit  


The time had passed quickly. Vehlez's hunters were inexperienced and lazy. M'rut quickly straightened that out. Constant training and punishment details for the shirkers. A few attempted to attack him, but after word spread of how badly he had thrashed them, most fell into line. Hrosst was his most dedicated student by far. After so long just bullying weaklings, he had likely forgotten that there were higher levels to attain. After being shown again, he was determined to be the best once more. He had potential. The ability to learn from his mistakes was key to his future. There would likely be fights to determine the best hunter once M'rut left, but he was confident he knew who would be on top. 

Grohk had taken to visiting him and asking questions. M'rut didn't mind. The hunters were too intimidated to strike up casual conversation, but Grohk was fearless. M'rut didn't think anything could dampen the young mechanic's spirits. Apparently Vehlez followed another sect of the Scorekeeper's religion. Their adjudicators placed much higher points on more mundane tasks and encouraged engineering and other scientific pursuits. M'rut didn't like it at first, but as Grohk explained it, M'rut came to see the sense behind it. These works helped all trandoshans, not just the clan. What higher value tasks could be done? What had as long lasting impact? 

M'rut participated in a few jobs to keep busy. They were simple affairs with little of the excitement he had grown used to. The most dangerous event was when a wild gundark attack on the caravan. The brute had been half mad with disease and posed little real threat. M'rut began to understand why the hunters had grown lazy. It was still no excuse.  


When they had finally made it to Narshada Captain Aigru had offered him a place as a part of the clan. M'rut politely refused. He had to restore his honour and his points. Aigru said he understood and that the offer would still be open should they meet again. It was harder than he had expected to leave them, but he had a list of underworld contacts to dredge up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M'rut is beginning to pick up what his father is putting down, but what will he do with it? I probably could have added the interactions from the time lapse, but I was trying to get M'rut to where the campaign started. *shrug* It really doesn't add much to the story beyond padding and character development for the Vehlez characters. Could be useful to come back later on depending on how I decide to develop the story. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!


	7. The Hunt Begins pt7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M'rut is on Narshada looking for leads to reach general Sturn when things start to unravel.

3 hours later, Narshada starport  


Narshada was the center of the hutt crime syndicates' power throughout the galaxy. Everyone, even the Empire had to respect their authority here. Only on Nal Hutta did they have more power. Of course they kept that control by usually not interfering with the day to day affairs of the planet spanning city. You had to cause quite a stir to get the planet's rulers to slither off their thrones. On top of all this, trandoshans were far from unheard of on this planet. It was the perfect place to hide. The only way someone would find him would be by sheer chance. 

As he left the travel kiosk he found the one snag in his plan. Placed centrally on the bounty board was his own picture snarling at him. This was also the home base of the bounty hunters guild. Led by a trandoshan, which M'rut wasn't sure if it was good or bad for him. Regardless, an 80,000 credit bounty was bad news. He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as he made his way from the bounty board. Fortunately the picture was of him without the scar marring his face. He doubted most non trandoshans would recognize him from that picture. He'd just have to be more careful with who he contacted.

3 weeks later, Narshada back alley  


Not much of a lead, but a contact in the Imperial fifth fleet would be useful. He'd have to buy that rodian a drink for this. He had thought it might be a trap, but the man smelled like he was willing to help take down Sturn. M'rut suspected he was a career jumper, hoping to secure a promotion over his superior's dead body. He walked out of the dingy alleyway and back onto the streets. The man could get him close, but M'rut knew he'd be killed in “vengeance” to make him the clear contender. M'rut could work with that though. Another week and he'd have the itinerary for the general. Now he'd just have to pick up some credits and lay low. They had finally updated his wanted poster. A bounty hunter had made a pass at him the other week, but that had been on another continent. He turned on his music and prepared for a long walk back to his current hideout.  


A few minutes later M'rut noticed the crowd parting ways for ... something. He was too far away to see what. As he moved with the crowd he caught the tell tale flash of white armor. Dammit! Imperials, just what he needed. He tried to lurk inconspicuously at the edge of the crowd, but when you were on average two feet taller than everyone else, it was hard to hide. He would just have to hope not to be spotted. There were at least a dozen stormtroopers moving, but one of them was different from the rest. He wore black armor with red detailing. What little M'rut knew of the Imperial hierarchy did not cover this man. A specialist of some kind? 

As M'rut looked at him the black armored trooper looked right back and paused. “That one's wanted for acts of terrorism by general Sturn!” As one the troopers turned to face him. 

Shit. ”Well, no rest tonight,” thought M'rut as the chase began.  


He could hear the troopers calling for back up as he reached up and turned on his chase music. He bowled through a cluster of pedestrians as he ducked into a side alley. There were three exits out of this alley if he recalled correctly. The two street entrances and one into a diner owned by an old irate hutt. Best to avoid that if he – Another squad appeared at the far end of the alley. The diner it was then. Now he just had to make it there. M'rut picked up a large trash can and used it as a shield from the onrushing clones. Blaster bolts started ripping holes in his cover. 

Only 2 meters more ... The initial squad made it into the alleyway. There! M'rut tossed the remains of the trash can at the first squad. 

“Lookout!” their warning was too late. The troopers were scattered like pins and their fire immediately slackened. 

He dove through the apparently locked door as its frame came off with it. 

The hutt manning the grill turned with a roar of fury. 

M'rut didn't have time for him and went for the front entrance to double back. There was but one problem. More troopers, this time armed with stun batons, were pushing through the startled customers. This was starting to feel like a trap to M'rut. His nose never lied though, so perhaps this was unrelated? It didn't matter. He had to go through them. 3 troopers wearing lighter armor than the others pushed through frightened customers. He switched to his combat track before deploying his pike and leaping over the counter.  


The first scout trooper came in with an overhead swing. 

M'rut kicked a stool into his legs. Slightly missed the timing for the beat on that, he reprimanded himself. 

The trooper toppled in a heap as the other two more cautiously moved in. 

The patrons had made their escapes by now and the diner was empty save the combatants. M'rut knew that he didn't have time to be slowed by these goons. He snarled and lunged in amongst them. He swung his pike in a wide arc. 

The first trooper attempted to block but had no idea how strong M'rut was. With an audible snap he was hurled back into a metal table that he bent in half with his impact. The other scout made a strike for M'rut's torso but he countered it with contemptuous ease. 

He grabbed the trooper and brought his head down for a vicious headbutt. The trooper's helmet cracked from the impact. Noises from the kitchen alerted M'rut that reinforcements were arriving. He lifted up the stunned trooper and hurled him into the offending area. A massive clamor arose as bodies were sent flying into cooking implements. 

The last trooper had finally risen and stood ready to fight. 

M'rut struck out with his pike and sent him flipping over a table. He did not get back up. At last freed M'rut beat a retreat through the front doors. 

“Halt! We've got you surrounded!” was the greeting he received outside.  


A dozen troopers, and that black clad specialist had formed a ring around the entrance. He was indeed surrounded. They had made one crucial mistake however. They were all in range of his pike, and only the specialist had a melee weapon. 

M'rut grinned and popped his neck. The song was starting to pick up. 

“Get on your knees and put your hands where I can see them.” 

Oh, they had no idea what was about to happen to them. The base dropped and M'rut dove into the crowd like a swimmer. 

A volley of shots smashed into his former position while a few managed to graze him. 

Stun shots. … Good to know. He swept his pike in a spin through the surrounding troopers, scattering them. Another shot found its mark, but M'rut ignored it. He impaled an overeager trooper who had rushed him and used his body as a shield from the others. 

The trooper twitched from multiple impacts before M'rut hurled him into a knot of his fellows. 

6 left standing. The specialist was closing in, but M'rut saw an opening in the wall of troopers and took it. 

“After him!” cried the black clad soldier. 

Most of the street had cleared out so he was more or less a sitting duck for the blasters of the remaining troopers. He'd need to get into another alley quickly. The throaty roar of a dropship signaled that this fight was only getting started.  


M'rut couldn't spare the thought to look back as he bobbed and weaved towards his chosen alley. 

The whirr of a rotary cannon was all the warning that M'rut got before dozens of rounds impacted in his path. Several ripped into his back, spraying blood on the already filthy street. 

He was beginning to think that they didn't like him. He was almost there as another volley stitched its way towards him. He just wasn't fast enough. Another welter of blood erupted from his body as rounds met flesh. He fell into a pile of trash in a heap. Blood dribbled from his mouth. “What a way to go,” M'rut thought as the remaining troopers closed in. 

The specialist waved the dropship to land. 

He could understand their thinking this over, but papa's words were ringing through his head as the beat began picking up into a second chorus. “You're not dead yet boy.” He grinned as he waited for his prey to get a little closer. 

“Looks like we might have broken the general's toy. Tell the inquisitor we'll need medical when we arrive.” M'rut could hear the vindictive pleasure in his voice. 

*Crunch* He sprang upon the nearest person. The specialist. This just got more interesting.  


Clearly the leader of his hunters, it seemed appropriate to end this in a duel. He doubted that there would be any fair play here however. 

The troopers began fanning out to surround him as he wrestled with the black clad figure for control of his electrostaff. Weakened by blood loss and muscle tearing, the leader managed to push M'rut away. “Is that all you've got left beast?” he sneered. 

M'rut deployed his force pike in response. 

“Good, I wanted a chall-” 

He didn't give him a chance to finish the sentence. He pushed his body to keep up with the tempo of the song. The black garbed warrior was hard pressed to keep up. He had pushed too far forward however and one of the troopers shot him in his back. He couldn't feel most of his right side anymore. He snarled as he shoved their leader away and swung low, taking out the offending soldier's legs with a snap. He didn't quite manage to parry the specialist's strike. It impacted on his shoulder causing his arm to go numb. He was losing limbs quickly. Neither the song nor he were quite finished yet however. 

M'rut reached up and grabbed the leader's helmet, “Get this thing off me!” he yelled as M'rut brought his helmet ricocheting off the concrete wall and back into his men. The remaining troopers stumbled back and he heard the whirr of the rotary gun spinning up. 

He used the time to grab one of the troopers close by. Blood sprayed. Rounds impacted into soft flesh. M'rut let the body drop as the gun wound down. 

The electrostaff struck him squarely in the center of his chest, shattering his prized music player. He toppled as he briefly lost consciousness, but that was all his hunters needed. Stun bolts and strikes rained down upon him and M'rut passed out.  
??? hours later, ????  


When he awoke, he almost wished that he hadn't. It felt like a krayt dragon had made him its chew toy before getting bored and leaving. He looked down to see that he had indeed been healed. Right, the general. He supposed that he might get lucky and kill Sturn before he was executed, but luck hadn't exactly been on his side thus far. He took stock of his surroundings. He was in a holding cell and he could hear an engine. A transport he reasoned. No doubt taking him to Sturn. He could see that he wasn't alone however. Some blue skinned human sat slumped in his seat behind a ray shield across from him. Standing in front of the other prisoner was the black clad specialist. M'rut was certain from the extensive damage to his helmet. He decided to rest his eyes until they docked. Then he would - *YAWN* - escape.

??? hours later, Acclimator prison ship  


He had been placed into a detention block with a handful of other prisoners. He saw a duros, something that might have been a wookie with mange, a human with green skin, and some faceless horror that came up to his thigh. Wonderful company to die with he thought sarcastically. Unfortunately when he had made his last bid for freedom he had discovered over a dozen troopers with batons waiting for him. Best to wait, he had decided. After all, He wasn't dead yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was kind of intense. Unfortunately he couldn't quite escape this time. Things are looking rather dire for M'rut. There were a lot of reinforcements on hand weren't there? I wonder why that is?  
> The action was fun, but my favorite thing to write is definitely character interactions. Especially old friends. Narshada always felt chaotic and dirty to me. This is where the star wars dnd picks up. In a prison cell surrounded by weirdos. You'll have to forgive M'rut's upcoming ignorance regarding species. Ask him to name the other most powerful clans? Easy. What is a red human with a mustache made of flesh? Not a clue. Although I don't remember that species' name right now either. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this slightly longer instalment!


	8. Odd Company pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M'rut finds aide from unexpected allies as he makes his escape attempt from imperial forces.

9 guard rotations later, In orbit over ?????

The announcement that they had made orbit had barely ended when pair of guards made their way onto the cell block. From what little M'rut had seen of the ship it had seemed understaffed in both men and prisoners. It was all very strange. He had expected to be immediately brought to be executed by Sturn, but instead they had been ferried about seemingly without purpose. None of the other prisoners had tried talking to him, which suited him just fine. There was little point getting attached to those who would likely die in the first escape attempt. Non Trandoshans were notoriously delicate. 

The larger and fatter of the two guards stepped forward and with a satisfied grin on his face belted out, “Alright you 'orible lot! It is my extreme pleasure to inform you that your time as pains in my neck is over!” His malicious grin grew wider. “As much as I'd love to see what the inquisitor has in store for you all, I will rest easy knowing that it'll be suitably painful.”  


The duros' blue skin paled and he rapidly blinked his reptilian eyes. The small creature had only discolorations to indicate eyes on its smooth face, although from its shudder M'rut was certain that … she had gotten the point. He thought it was a she at least. He wasn't very adept at identifying genders among humanoids. Maybe he'd have to add it to his growing list of needed skills. The discolored mangy wookie he had seen when entering his cell did not take kindly to the threat.  


“Why don't you say that from this side of the bars?” he all but growled. 

M'rut didn't think that wookies could speak common. Strange. 

The paunched guard walked up to his cell on M'rut's right. “What was that, convict?” He practically spat the words out.  


“I said. Why don't you – Rrrrgghh!” 

M'rut heard the distinctive sound of an energy goad's discharge. A good tool for subduing prey, his pike had one built into the head.  


“*Huff, huff* You hit like my old nan.” 

M'rut was mildly impressed that he was still goading the jailer. It reminded him of D'hirt. 

Another discharge and another roar of pain. “Is that *Huff * all you *Huff *got?” 

He couldn't help but admire this creature. He had spirit. He'd have to help him to learn some – No! He couldn't start thinking of them as pack. When the chance to escape came, he would not be able to hesitate. They would just slow him down. 

Another bellow of rage and pain. 

M'rut grimaced. 

The pair of guards laughed as he heard the giant flop to the ground. “That'll teach you, scum.” said the fat one proudly as he strutted back out of the cell block. 

If the gaps between the bars weren't too narrow, M'rut would have dearly liked to reach out and snap the grey uniformed bastard's neck. He instead settled on a glaring at him. As they left his sight he laid down to think. This was the second time that someone in charge had mentioned an inquisitor in his presence. Just who and what was an inquisitor, and why were they so important?  


An hour or so passed before the mottled pink skin woke up. He groaned and quietly cursed. The duros eyed him and said,  


“You like, shouldn't piss him off man. People like him get off pushing people around.” The duros had an accent M'rut couldn't place and sounded both young and jumpy. It almost sounded as if he spoke from experience.  


“Indeed. If only for your health, please don't agitate him again.” The small creature pleaded. She had an almost melodic voice. Perhaps ethereal would be a better word. Bah! M'rut was no adjudicator with a gift for words. He shook his head.  


“I'm getting out of here, one way or another.” The pair paled at this. Before either could formulate a response a detonation could be heard down the deck. Alarms blared and boots pounded on deck plating.  


“Attention all hands, prepare to repel borders.” 

M'rut grinned. The Scorekeeper smiled upon him again.  


The boots revealed themselves to be a solitary … Twi'lek? M'rut wasn't sure. There were a few species that had long tentacles coming from their heads. Lekku he thought they were called. Otherwise he looked like a blue hairless human wearing simple military fatigues with a rifle. He really had to study the files left for him on species when he got out of here. That made … five species that he couldn't identify so far? It was starting to get embarrassing. Another skill to the list. He was getting too many lists. He was turning into his father. He shuddered. 

The twi'lek rested his rifle on his shoulder and shouted ”Are any of you the jedi!?” 

What a silly question M'rut thought. Of course the prisoners would say whatever was necessary to get out. 

As if to confirm this the duros piped up, “Like, yeah man. I'm totally a jedi.” 

The green human chimed in as well. “I'm not a practitioner, but I served the jedi.” 

The twi'lek looked doubtful before glancing at the control console.  


“You should like open up our cells man. So we can help. As jedi” 

Neither the twi'lek nor M'rut were in any way convinced by this. “If I let you go will you help us to free the real jedi from this ship?”  


“Of course.” the green human said.  


“If I must.” replied the giant.  


“I will assist in a medical capacity,” assured the smooth faced horror.  


“Like totally man,” still not quite a reassuring response from that particular duros. 

M'rut too nodded his assent. 

The twi'lek held his gaze for a moment before coming to a decision. He briskly walked over to the console and typed something in. The bars retracted into the walls. They were free.  


As one the others piled out of their cells. The green one spoke up first. “Well, my name is Lars Keeba, I'm good with computers.” 

Perhaps he could be useful. M'rut might have considered keeping him around if he wasn't so preoccupied with his current predicament.  


“I am called Senki. I deal in medical goods and healing.” The small one lilted.  


“My name's Hep and I was born to fly!” Exuberant as ever came the duros' reply accompanied with finger guns. 

M'rut however had something bigger on his mind. Trandoshans are a people steeped in traditions, and sometimes honor. You always show respect to your elders, the clan comes first, and you never renege on a life debt. There were conditions on this of course, after all, you shouldn't sign your life to the service of scum. The individual couldn't be a part of your clan or pack for they were already meant to protect you. They couldn't do it for the purpose of gaining a life debt, the act had to be selfless. And finally, There had to be no promise of reward for the act. Like the other rule, it had to be selfless. There was a disturbing possibility that M'rut now owed a life debt to this twielek. These events were rare. Almost unheard of. H-how was he supposed to do this?! Did he just declare it to him or was there a ritual!? Did the request to help the jedi count as a reward?!!? He dearly wished there was an adjudicator that he could ask. The oddly discolored humanoid walked into the middle of the milling group. M'rut came to a decision. The large man proudly declared, “I am Wulfrik Von Ulfricson; First among equals, slayer of the Nightbring- ARR!” 

M'rut had no time for boastful fools and shoved past him to stand before the twi'lek.  


“Where to from here?” It was best to keep moving after all. 

The twi'lek perked up from the lack of yet another introduction that M'rut could smell he had been resigned to. 

However, before he could answer, the green alien, Lars, interjected “I saw them put our equipment into the security station in front of where you entered.” 

As one the party turned to the aforementioned door. It was definitively sealed. Behind a blast door no less. There was however a console next to it. 

“Go,” the twi'lek gestured resignedly at the offending portal. 

The others descended on the station while M'rut diligently stood guard with their rescuer. He wasn't sure if he should inform him … or maybe just stay close … This shouldn't be this hard. He was a warrior! A proud hunter of the black scale clan. Here he was hesitating like a hatchling on his first hunt! Unacceptable! The prisoners whispered over by the console as M'rut drew himself up to do what was right. “Have you heard of a life debt?” That sounded like the best way to start this. Definitely. Establish his knowledge base first. … This wasn't because he had no better ideas.  


“... Wookies give life debts for saving theirs … “ The twi'lek seemed disquieted by the thought and trailed off.  


“Trandoshans have a not dissimilar tradition.” 

The man looked up at him with a mixture of dread and shock on his face. “You mean that you ...”  


“Yes”  


“But what do I do - “  


“As I understand it, whatever you would do normally. With company.” 

The soldier shook his head. 

M'rut more than understood. This was all new to him too. 

From behind them a * Fzzzzzztt * sounded. Lars peered past the cloud of smoke and said, ”Uh … whoops. I didn't think they'd rigg the door to reroute power to -” 

Wulfrik shoved him aside, “I'll handle this electromancer” he said as he began to rip wires out of the console. 

M'rut stared in disbelief as sparks flew from the destruction. He was now less appreciative of Lars' supposed talents. The miscolored humanoid continued, true to form, and thoroughly destroyed what was left of the console. 

The twi'lek looked at M'rut and shrugged at the door. 

He huffed and pushed past the crowd. 

Wulfrik initially rose to contest him, but seemed to not have realized M'rut's full size. He was a half a head taller than the man, and he stepped aside to allow M'rut to get to work. 

The blast door consisted of two smaller slabs that connected in a groove in the center. M'rut initially tried to pull them apart, but he couldn't overcome both hydraulic actuators, so he decided to go after one. They all watched as he dug his claws into the tiny gap and pulled. It ripped at the edges as his claws tore the metal, shouldered but the gap widened. 

Wulfrik eagerly sought to aide in the effort, as he could now fit his fingers in too. 

Together the gap widened until M'rut grabbed it fully with both hands and pulled. Trying to push the door into its housing would've been a struggle the whole way. By pulling it from its housing he only had to rip the durasteel apart rather than fight the hydraulic pressure. M'rut was rather glad his father had made him learn how to disassemble a dropship. This wasn't exactly the same, but the knowledge helped. The others hurriedly stepped away as the sheet of durasteel lurched partially out of its housing. One. Last. Pull! He threw all his might into it and while he wasn't aware of it, there was something else that helped him as well. The door flew from its housing in a wail of shrieking metal. Straight into the guard who had been sneaking up on them. 

* Clang! * The twi'lek looked sheepish as they all stared at the very dead guard. The door had bisected his torso and buried itself in the wall … and if M'rut wasn't mistaken, it was the fat bastard who had been beating on Wulfrik. Good riddance. Now. There was equipment to salvage.  


M'rut's equipment, enough comlinks for everyone, 3 blaster pistols, a greatsword, 4 backpacks, a medical kit, and … a lightsaber? It must belong to the jedi. Wulfrik kicked the guard's body as they passed and Hep spat on him. Even Senki gave her own kick. The twi'lek led the way seemingly sure of their path. 

Hep the duros sidled up to M'rut and nervously asked, “So, what's your name big fella?”  


“M'rut.” 

Hep waited a few awkward moments for something more before continuing. “So, you're pretty strong eh?”  


“Yes.” M'rut did not wish to share with what he thought was likely a swindler. He was far more concerned with collecting his few points back from that black clad specialist from Narshada. He knew that he was on board, he had witnessed him guarding what he now guessed must be the jedi. He hadn't seen any other cell blocks, so perhaps the blue human wasn't anyone special. He supposed it didn't matter. M'rut realized that the duros had been waiting for him to elaborate again. Before he could respond, Hep held up his hands in surrender. “Cool, cool. Strong silent type, I get you..” He then retreated to the other humanoids. 

* sigh* Dealing with aliens was certainly a pain in his hide. They couldn't smell his agitation, didn't seem to understand why he was so distracted, and couldn't even open a bulkhead door. And now he had improperly responded to … Hep? Yes, that was his name. There were so many additional rules for communicating with other species. A trandoshan would have been able to smell his desire to be left alone, but their noses were next to useless. He bet they could barely smell rotting meat at any distance worth mentioning. Of course he should have thought of that though. Sloppy M'rut, very sloppy. He needed them working together if they were to escape. Yet another item for his lists.  


“The others went to secure the other cell block and to stop reinforcements.” He beckoned them forwards through the sterile plasteel hallways. 

Not a shred of personality anywhere. This place sucked.  


“Come on! We should be meeting up with them soon!” The twi'lek's posture had relaxed the closer they got with no sounds of blaster fire. 

The party had been traveling in silence since the awkward attempt to get to know M'rut. The tension was palpable. M'rut hated this. He wanted to have a proper pack again. He wanted to hear D'hirt making impossible boasts as Isskk made sardonic jokes in reply. He even wanted to hear his father giving another lecture on hunting strategies or proper negotiation techniques with crime syndicates. He wanted to be HOME. He sniffled. He did not tear up. That was a foolish notion. He was a fully grown, adult hunter. They did not cry. * sniff * Foolishness to even consider. * sniff * … … He smelled blood. Like a switch he was brought back to the present. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. This was still an enemy vessel full of hostiles. Just because there was no fighting didn't mean it was safe. He still had his life debt to honor and revenge against what was feeling like an ever increasing number of imperial officials. He beckoned their guide back and took point. He peeked around the next corner. More twi'leks had set up a series of barricades in a central junction. Too many entrances for his liking, but it was defensible enough. Even better, there were still twi'leks defending it! 

He gestured for their rescuer to take point again. They had initially panicked at the sight of their strange group of prisoners. Fortunately they recognized their compatriot and held fire. Standing amongst them was the blue human M'rut had seen when he was brought aboard. The jedi.  


“Look! We found the jedi! There's hope for the cause once again!” Despite the bodies of their fellows that M'rut could see, the remaining twieleks seemed jubilant, staring with something akin to hero worship at the jedi. 

He squirmed under their attention. It was a subtle thing, but M'rut was adept at identifying weaknesses. This one did not want this praise or perhaps the responsibility. Hmmmm ...  


“As I said before, I never achieved the rank of full jedi. I am but a padawan.” The blue human spoke in a complete deadpan at odds with what little M'rut could catch of his scent over the smell of blood and ozone. 

Strange. His remark seemed to have no effect on the mood of the boarding party. 

The padawan seemed to finally notice the other new comers. “Ah, wonderful. You freed more prisoners.” he said in the same deadpan voice. It almost sounded like sarcasm. As if the day wasn't strange enough already. The jedi couldn't modulate his voice it seemed. An injury perhaps? 

Hep gave a grin while Lars bowed and Senki awkwardly waved. Wulfrik on the other hand was having none of his tone. “What? Think you're better than us red eyes?” 

M'rut hadn't noticed, but he did indeed have piercing red eyes. That wasn't the concern here as the twieleks brought up their weapons. 

Wulfrik seemed oblivious to this as he continued to challenge the jedi, who for his part, looked confused before realization dawned on his face. “I am a chiss. We often find it difficult to express our emotions in a manner acceptable to -”  


“Sounds like a lot of hog wash to me. I'll be keeping my eye on you.” He then turned to the twieleks and realized where their guns were pointed. He grimaced at them before huffing and walking away. 

This seemed to appease them. Their rescuer returned the lightsaber reverentially to the “chiss” who gave him a short bow in return. “I believe we should all make our way to the escape pods now.” he said as boots could be heard echoing down three of the four hallways.

“We'll hold them off while you escape!” said a red twielek, slamming another gas cell into his blaster. The ragtag group of prisoners wasted no time in piling down the stormtrooper free hallway save for the chiss and M'rut.  


“You should come with us. We can all escape this place together.” It wasn't apparent from his tone or any overt movements but M'rut could see how much this young man did not want to sacrifice more lives. 

He agreed with the sentiment, but there were only 6 twieleks left and most were injured. They'd slow down the jedi's escape. M'rut didn't want to stay in this “heroic” last stand, but his debt demanded that he do so. 

The one who had rescued his cell block took them aside as the others got into position. “YOU must escape, for Ryloth and her people. We all knew this was going to be a one way trip.” The others nodded. 

Not how he had wanted to die. Perhaps he could kill the stormtroopers one hallway at a time until they got enough of a break to make it to the escape pods...  


“But we -”  


“WE already made our choice. YOU can still do much good.”  


The chiss continued to hesitate as the first few shots were exchanged down one of the hallways.  


“Go!” cried the blue twielek. 

Finally the chiss relented and ran down the corridor after the others. 

The twieleks wouldn't like it, but if he used one of their dead as a shield he could probably make it to the first group relatively unscathed. Now, which one looked the most intac-  


“What are you still doing here?” 

M'rut blinked. Wasn't it obvious? “Figuring out how to save you.” The twielek blinked in return. “Didn't you hear what I just said?”  


“Yes. I've heard better speeches, but it wasn't bad. He'll be motivated I think.” Papa always liked to give speeches. Fire up the hunters. What he could do right now with a pack of his kin. *sigh*  


“You can do far more than just dying here too.”  


“You are here, so I am as well.” 

Realization dawned on his face. “The life debt ...”  


“Prevents me from leaving.”  


“Then I release you from your debt!” Blasters start to fire in another of the hallways.  


“That is not how it works.”  


“Well then, how does it work?” 

Several bolts struck near M'rut's head. “I am sworn to your service until your death or mine.” A prison guard came sprinting down the hallway opposite the escape pods. M'rut snapped the leg off of a table and hurled it down the offending corridor. A wet pop followed by gurgling bubbled out with more return fire.  


“So if I were to issue you an order you'd have to follow it?”  


“... Yes ...” M'rut did not like where this was going.  


“Then I am ordering you to keep that jedi safe.” He looked proud of his ruse. 

It was almost adorable. M'rut was very unhappy about this however. Technically the tweilek was right, but it broke the spirit of the tradition. The few stories of life debts all ended with the pair dying together. Usually doing some great feat. Both of his choices didn't match up with how this was supposed to go. Then again … life never really does, does it? He nodded. “Fine. No harm will come to him. … Die well.” With that he gave the rebels a warrior's salute and turned to leave before pausing. “Wait. What is your name?” he said as he turned.  


“Kaz'cepom of the free Ryloth movement.”  


“Die well Kaz'cepom.” and with that he was off.  


When he caught up with the rest of the group they were huddled around a terminal next to a door labeled “escape pods.” M'rut was having flashbacks to earlier. Fortunately for his immediate concerns the jedi was standing patiently to the side with Senki. 

Everyone but Lars, who was elbow deep in wiring, looked up at his entrance. Wulfrik sneered and was about to say something when Lars cried out “I got it!” 

M'rut was liking Wulfrik less and less. The door opened and the temperature dropped. Standing in the doorway was the black armored specialist from before. The armor had been repaired but his scent was still the same. Hatred and cruelty. He made no dramatic reveal, no speech. As soon as the party was visible he hurled a grenade right at the middle of them. 

M'rut and the chiss dived to the sides. Everyone else didn't notice in time and were caught in the blast. Rather than being ripped apart however, they were enveloped in a quickly expanding foam. M'rut recognized it as riot foam, a rapidly expanding substance that hardened into something similar to concrete. He also noticed that Senki had been carried out of the blast by the jedi. 3 vs 1? This man was a fool. Back on Narshada he could barely handle him alone when he had been bleeding to death. Now it was him and the jedi. Perhaps the healer could be of some use too. She did have a blaster pistol … that looked more like a rifle in her diminutive hands … she'd be fine.  


“A purge trooper,” the jedi hissed. So that was his title. 

The purge trooper flourished his electrostaff and launched himself at the chiss with a roar. The saber ignited and the fight began in earnest.  


“Hey man, let us out of here!” Hep waved at Senki with his one free hand.  


“Oh! Of course!” Senki scrambled over as staff met blade in a shower of sparks.  


“You cowardly mud sucker! When I get out of this you're dead!” Wulfrik roared as he thrashed in his foam prison. 

M'rut deployed his pike and rushed in to help. 

The purge trooper noticed and used the reach of his staff to maneuver the chiss into M'rut. He bounced off with an “oof.” 

It didn't slow him down, but delayed him just long enough for the purge trooper to lunge at Senki who was busily trying to free Hep. M'rut used a pulse from his electric goad to shunt the staff away from from the tiny woman. This however left him open for the reverse that M'rut knew was coming. 

Pain shot out from his stomach where he was struck. Ow. That was not on stun setting. 

Hep meanwhile provided the insightful commentary of “Yo!! You just got hit man!” 

The jedi – he should really ask his name at the next opportunity – came back in to engage the trooper. 

M'rut stayed closer to the others and focused on deflecting any incoming attacks while the chiss kept applying pressure. M'rut was rather proud of how they had come up with this without speaking and the jedi's inferior nose. The purge trooper was starting to run a little ragged. He was huffing and likely didn't have too much left. 

A shower of debris bounced off of M'rut's back, accompanied by a roar of unadulterated hatred. Wulfrik was free and he was pissed. He barreled through M'rut, knocking him to the floor. He wielded a sword as tall as Hep was and brought it down in a brutal arc on the trooper's head. 

The trooper saw it coming and used his staff to bring it down towards the unsuspecting jedi. 

He barely dodged the blow as Wulfrik grinned sheepishly. 

After recovering from Wulfrik's escape Senki managed to finally break Hep out of the foam with her pistol butt. They both turned to Lars who smiled and wiggled his fingers at them.  


M'rut had not managed to fully stand when the electrostaff struck him right in his face. Instead of going after the entangled pair he had gone for him. Clever. M'rut was hurled backwards crashing into Lars, unintentionally freeing him. Owwww. He was fairly certain something was broken. 

After glaring at one another Wulfrik and the jedi were back in the fray. 

Senki had scrambled off of Lars' foam to see the purge trooper closing in. She hurriedly brought up her weapon and loosed a shot. 

Wulfric brought up his blade only for Senki's shot to pass through his long facial hair. He indignantly stared at Senki who shyly waved back. He caught an electrostaff to the gut for his troubles and was doubled over. The staff cracked into his jaw sending him stumbling backwards. 

The jedi dodged inbetween them to prevent a follow up as M'rut shook the stars from his eyes. The jedi's intervention prevented Wulfrik from immediately returning to the fight as well as forcing him to swing over the chiss' head. 

The trooper sent one of his swings down at the jedi's arm as he was probing the purge trooper's defenses. At the last moment the saber diverted the blow. 

M'rut though that lightsabers cut through everything. Shouldn't the sword be destroyed? It didn't matter. He was up and the purge trooper was in trouble. 

Wulfrik shoved the jedi aside and layed into the trooper. Big obvious swings with a lot of power. Even one would cleave the trooper in half. He was getting no such opportunities however and his attacks left no room for the others to help. 

Having had quite enough, M'rut grabbed Wulfrik by his vest and flung him out of the way. 

The others stayed to the side and watched. 

He grinned evilly. It was time to get some of his points back.  


The purge trooper blanched as M'rut began his assault. 

They were on a schedule, he was not messing around. Every blow was with his full strength. 

He could tell the trooper's arms were going numb from the impacts. He smelled fear. The staff was knocked from one of the trooper's hands by the latest blow. M'rut lunged forward, bringing the pike down through his knee. 

The trooper roared in pain and M'rut ripped his pike out with a snapping of bones. The trooper collapsed in an expanding pool of blood. 

M'rut kicked the staff out of reach and sneared down at him. It was time to settle the score.  


“You Huff won't get far. Huff The Empire knows Huff where you are. Huff You're al- Aaaahhck!”  


The purge trooper was bracing himself off the ground to give his speech when Wulfrik swept in with his blade and cut his upper torso off.  


"Yo man, WTF!?” Hep looked sick.  


“He was already defeated!” M'rut couldn't tell if Senki was disturbed by the blood but she was definitely angry. 

Lars actually vomited while the jedi scowled. 

M'rut for his part was livid. THAT was HIS kill. His points had just been stolen. … There was only one proper response.  


“He was overloading the gas from his rifle to detonate the room. I just saved your lives.” Wulfrik sounded simultaneously smug and insulted. 

M'rut paused his murderous plans to verify his story. There was indeed a rifle on the trooper's back but M'rut wasn't familiar with imperial weaponry enough to know if the gas had been being cooked. 

Wulfrik stood there challenging him to contradict him. That was the last straw. 

M'rut raised to his full height and bared his fangs. He had taken enough insults from this thing.  


“Those are some nice teeth, lizard. Would make a fine necklace.” 

Before the fight could begin running boots could be heard coming from the position occupied by the twi'leks.  


They both looked at the hallway and then back at each other. They nodded their agreement to a truce and went to work. M'rut took the rifle while Wulfrik cut off the trooper's hand. Perhaps it was a trophy. 

That reminded him. He sunk his claws into the trooper's neck and pulled. With a sickening squelch the head tore free. Lars threw up again. The other two tried not to look. He needed proof to present to an adjudicator that the deed had been done … although he had to acknowledge something first. He had just acquired a new pack. Roles and hierarchy could be worked out later, for now there were two benefits. One: He earned his points from the last few weeks back without having to kill Wulfrik, and two: he didn't have to even consider owing a life debt to the obnoxious creature. 

Senki was shoving against M'rut's leg “We need to leave. Now.” she said. 

M'rut nodded and followed the group into a pod. It reeked of blood but otherwise felt sterile much like the rest of the ship. Isskk would say it had no soul. There were a pair of medical packs and a console but was otherwise devoid of equipment.  


“Blue pilot, get us out of here.” commanded Wulfrik as he tried to secure his bulky frame in the restraints. 

M'rut had combined two seats' to hold him securely.  


“It's an escape pod man, just hit the big red button by you” came Hep's pithy reply.  


“Oh. I see.” Wulfrik then tentatively tapped the button and the pod was jettisoned. 

Just as M'rut and Wulfrik had problems securing themselves, so had Senki. Hers was simply the reverse issue. She was swimming in her seat. When the pod hit atmosphere she was hurled through the gap in her restraining belt. Everyone else hung on for dear life as she pinballed around the shuttle. 

As she crashed into M'rut for the second time he grabbed her and prevented any further bludgeoning. By that point they reached the surface in a bone shattering impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said at the the end of the last chapter, this is where our campaign started. We certainly didn't talk nearly as much, but that's no fun, so I added elements that we discovered about our characters' personalities over the next several sessions in here. I tried to keep everyone true to their players' representations of them as possible, but some liberties were taken. I haven't gotten around to sending out this chapter to them, but I think only one of them will read it anyways. Who knows, I might be surprised. Other notes!  
> So, that fight with the purge trooper didn't go that way at all. The DM had been talking him up the whole session, saying how tough a fight he would be and M'rut did like 10 points of damage to him (about two thirds his health) with two crits on top of it (floored and crippled) at which point Wulfrik broke free and lopped his arm off, finishing him. He didn't survive one combat round. Which is why he was just inferior to M'rut in combat back on Narshada. That didn't make for a good story, but I had already invalidated him challenging the party on his own. I didn't see troopers adding much of a challenge so I went with what is often our own greatest enemy. Ourselves. I feel individually either M'rut or Wulfrik would have taken down the purge trooper, although in my mind Wulfrik isn't a duelist like M'rut is. We get to see him in his element in later chapters though, don't you worry. The padawan might have beaten him eventually, but he isn't a killer, I feel he'd be holding back which would not have helped him against the purge trooper. Also M'rut will discover just what Wulfrik is when we next join them and we'll get proper descriptions of the cast. I was also told by one of my readers that the purge trooper battle got confusing and I haven't gotten around to the second draft yet. Sorry about that. Well, I hope you enjoyed it! T.T.F.N.!


	9. Friends on the Fleet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D'hirt and Isskk have their most difficult trial yet. Discussing their feelings! Things get worse as bad news is brought to their attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt Like we needed a little break from the constant action with M'rut and company, so we're checking in with D'hirt and Isskk.

5 minutes later, Black Scale 3rd Fleet Flagship

D'hirt picked up a wriggling bloodworm and popped an end into his mouth. 

Isskk sat across from him idly stirring his bowl of insects with a claw. 

He slurped it up before he stared at his old friend sullenly looking at his food for answers. He sighed. Isskk got like this sometimes. Time to lean back on the tried and true method of banter.  


“Are you going to finish that or beat them into submission?” he said as he leaned in with a dopey grin. 

Isskk made a disgusted noise and shoved the bowl at him. 

So this was worse than normal. He dreaded what he might have to do. Discuss feelings. *Shudder* “This about the boy?”  


“What do you think?”  


“So ... yes?”  


“... Yes D'hirt, it's about the boy.” 

Good, now he was getting somewhere. “About the 'mission', or that we don't know where he is?”  


Isskk glared at him.  


“Oh, right,” they weren't supposed to talk about M'rut's situation. Things were already complicated enough without involving the black scale's council of elders, much less inter clan politics. There was a reason that D'hirt left that sort of thing to Vaxx and Isskk. He didn't have the patience. 

Isskk looked around the dining hall for eavesdroppers. From their position at the head table reserved for the most experienced hunters and elders they could see the scattered packs of hunters sitting along the tables below them. There was little mixing between packs beyond friendly jibes. Certainly no evidence of eavesdroppers with the other veterans having left earlier.  


“See, we're clear,” D'hirt tried to reassure his oldest friend.  


“We can't jeopardize his mission.” Isskk looked down and shook his head. “It's our fault he's out there anyways,”  


D'hirt's face hardened. He leaned over and grabbed Isskk's normally pressed collar, dragging him nose to nose. “He is a grown adult! He made his choices and now he has to live with them,” he hissed.  


Isskk looked up at him disbelievingly.  


D'hirt dropped into his chair. “The fool didn't even see it coming. Walked right into it. Didn't even try to stop it.”  


“Are you talking about M'rut, or us?”  


D'hirt looked up sharply. He shouldn't be surprised that Isskk had read him so easily. They had known each other for most of their 46 years. They might as well be clutch mates. Only Vaax came close to that amount of time and D'hirt had only met him after his adulthood trial. He slumped back into his chair and crossed his arms defiantly. “I liked the kid too, but it wasn't us who -”  


“Stabbed him in the back?” 

A spear of guilt went through D'hirt. “It was the Empire that made us!”  


Isskk looked at him with an unsaid rebuttal.  


“What choice did we have?”  


“To betray the Empire or one of our clan. A packmate.” boom That one hit close to home.  


“We are nothing like him!” he shouted. The youngsters were paying attention now. Dammit. 

With a look of regret Isskk realized that he had pushed too far. “That was uncalled for of me. I'm sorry.” It showed the level of trust the two had for each other that he admitted to such weakness openly.  


“*Huff* and you call me the emotional one.”  


“I said I'm sorry.”  


D'hirt gave him a level stare and said, “They could wipe us out if they wanted to.”  


Isskk frowned. He wasn't wrong.  


“I know you haven't settled down on a mate yet, but I'm not risking her for anything. Even him”  


Isskk pursed his scaley lips. “Do the rest of his pack know?”  


“No, they've been fed the same line as everyone else.” Speak of the devil, they both saw that M'rut's pack was sending someone up to them. Laig by the looks of it. Time to change tacts.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

“I'm telling you that the bladewings will take home the championship!” D'hirt always loved racketball rivalries. Made an easy cover for the shouted remarks too.  


“By the pit they will! 400 credits says it's the Votaghans!” Easy to rile him up like this.  
“

Will your mate let you make those kind of bets?” Crah'hai was a fearsome enough figure to give even D'hirt pause. Head researcher on Doshan wildlife couldn't be soft after all. Not with the monsters that made up its ecosystem. As D'hirt squirmed Laig shuffled awkwardly up to their table. Roughly the same age as M'rut and certainly not small, he had emerged as the pack's leader in M'rut's absence. Veterans such as Isskk and D'hirt were assigned to such young packs temporarily to give them valuable insights and advice on the hunt. Eventually they proved that they were capable and were left on their own or enough of them died that they were split amongst other packs. Isskk suspected that without his “mission” M'rut's pack would have been free of them in a few months. Now? Well, let's see how Laig's first command went.  


“Sirs … we were wondering …” 

Not a great start, he was stuttering already.  


“ When will M'rut be returning from his mission?!” he burst out. 

There it was. Subtle as a brick. That was Laig. An easy answer, but Isskk doubted that would be the end of it.  


“The mission is top secret, no one knows when he'll return to us.” D'hirt smoothly read out the official statement. Laig among others had been told this before though. 

His dark olive scales glistened with fear scent. 

Isskk thought that he was vividly remembering the last time he had contradicted a superior. 

He swallowed and steeled himself. Perhaps there was hope for his pack yet.  


“I know sir, but we were checking around and there's no ships out, no one not assigned to a known mission is missing...” he looked them square in the eye before continuing, “and the records were altered to create a false crew,” he let his unspoken accusation hang in the air. 

Huh. Always from the unexpected quarters eh? If he wasn't so proud he might have been offended by the challenge. The pack had done its research. Smart AND loyal? M'rut would have taken the council by storm. It almost brought a smile to Isskk's face but it didn't help the immediate problem. He didn't have an answer for him. He looked at D'hirt, but he could see his mind pinwheeling too.  


“Did the council kill M'rut?” The boy was deadly serious. 

His heart was pounding. He could see the boy's pack watching them intently. Waiting for a sign. He was pleased with them. Backing Laig's play despite the possible repercussions? That was what made a pack truly formidable. Unity … That gave him an idea. “Do you really think that his father would have let them do that?”  


“Suppose he wasn't given a choice?”  


“Then they would be corpses already.” D'hirt said truthfully. 

Isskk could see no other way out of this. Either Laig and his pack would have to be silenced, messy and unethical, or they'd have to be brought into the fold. He sighed. “Can your pack keep a secret?”  


Laig nodded eagerly while D'hirt stared at him disbelievingly. 

He leaned in and whispered, “A powerful client has taken him.” 

Laig's eyes widened. Isskk could see his mind racing. “Was it the – mphh!” 

Iskk clamped his mouth shut. “Do not say their name aloud. They have spies everywhere.” He even looked around as though they might be listening right then. Okay, so he might have been hamming it up, but Laig bought it wholesale. 

He eagerly nodded his assent and Isskk let go of his maw. “What do you want us to do?”  


“Nothing. If the current plan is to succeed they must think we will do nothing.” 

Laig nodded and went back to his pack trying to look professional, he could smell the excitement coming off of him though. 

As he looked away he could see the other packs staring intently at the exchange. He let out a long sigh. The “secret” would be out to the rest of the fleet by the end of the day. The other elders would have it by the end of the week and the council almost immediately after that. 

D'hirt was looking intently at him. “We need to go tell Vaax about this shit show.” 

He grimaced and nodded as they stood up. 

D'hirt grabbed Isskk's mostly uneaten bowl of insects. As they passed by Laig he gave them a wink and a thumbs up. Isskk internally groaned. He'd have to revise his estimates of how long they could keep a lid on this.  


D'hirt happily popped another fried beetle into his mouth as they walked down the crowded hall towards Vaax's office. *Crunch* It had been a royal pain to clear the hallways from the interrogation rooms to the airlock. It was a massive ship and absolutely filled with Trandoshans. With around 15,000 onboard, it was closer to a flying city rather than a flagship. *Crunch* There were apartment complexes, restaurants, and even refineries. Everything to keep the fleet independent of a dockyard. *Crunch* And as with anything built by the children of Dosha it was designed to take punishment. *Crunch* Isskk gave him an irritated scowl. “Do you have to eat so loudly?”  


“My mate says that my healthy constitution is one of the things that drew her to me.” *Crunch*  


“The fact that you're a garbage disposal on legs has nothing to do with your constitution.” *Crunch*  


“You're just jealous that I have such a wonderful mate.”  


“She only picked you because you're the only one who could stomach her cooking.”  


*Crunch* “Bah! You just can't appreciate a proper Trandoshan meal!” *Crunch* “Too much dining with that soft human of yours!” 

Isskk shook his head. This was an old squabble between them and it served mostly to pass the time.  


“What was her name again?” D'hirt knew the name, he just did it to annoy Isskk.  


He huffed, “Irene, as you very well know.”  


“Wasn't much help to us recently.” *Crunch* Isskk frowned. That was dangerously close to crossing a line.  


“She works on Kashyyyk. HE doesn't.” 

*Crunch* Finally running out of fried victims D'hirt tossed the bowl down a recycling chute. “She's in Imperial intelligence, shouldn't she know something?”  


“She already has told us much.” Time for a little payback. “Why? Has Crah'hai's cooking provided the answers to our hunt?”  


“If we spent enough time on Dosha for me to have any, it very well might!” His tone was light hearted, but Isskk knew how much D'hirt missed his mate and their hatchlings. They had been mated for 15 years now. Later than most, but then neither of them WERE like most Trandoshans. 

As they finally turned into the relatively deserted command quarters Isskk asked his true question. “How is she handling M'rut's situation?” She had basically raised M'rut alongside his birth mother while he was going through basic education. He doubted that she was taking the news well. As the silence stretched on Isskk turned to see D'hirt awkwardly shifting and staring at his feet. 

D'hirt didn't do awkward, too brash by far. As Isskk stared he burst out, “Vaax said to keep it a secret! Telling her could get him killed.” He stared at his feet and mumbled, “She'd understand” as they started walking again.  


“When she does find out, she'll be taking it out of your hide” 

D'hirt's typical demeanor returned at the banter. “I was going to throw Vaax under that particular hovercar. He'll survive it. Probably” 

Isskk shook his head. Here was his office. He knocked and Vaax replied “Come in.”  


“Isskk, D'hirt, good. We have a problem.” 

That wasn't good. More bad news? At least there wasn't a smashed holocommunicator like last time.  


“We actually have some news ourselves,” D'hirt said. He waited for a moment for Vaax to interrupt before continuing. “ M'rut's old pack -”  


“You mean Laig's pack.”  


“Right, Laig's pack has been snooping around and seem to have evidence of our tampering.”  


“I know.”  


“You know? Well … alright then.” 

D'hirt's line of questions had died so Isskk picked them up. “Do we have any additional orders regarding his pack sir?”  


“No. We have bigger problems.” He pressed a switch and his bookshelf rotated to reveal a bank of monitors. Each one displayed Reports, dossiers, and intergalactic communications. 

Isskk quickly scanned them and saw what he had been dreading. Everyone had something to do with M'rut.  


“The Imperials are leaking information like a sieve. Contracts with the bounty hunters guild, information on sightings and it's all on unencrypted channels.” He let his words hang.  


“A trap?” D'hirt ventured.  


“Possible but unlikely. Sturn is no fool.”  


Realization hit Isskk. “They want us to do their dirty work for them!”  


“Close, but no.” He pulled up a new set of pages, these on the other clans' movements. “They're trying to give the other clans ammunition to tear us down with.” 

This was worse than they had thought, but … 

“M'rut's a great kid, but how will he help them hurt us?” D'hirt voiced the question lingering on both their minds to different extents.  


“If we don't retrieve him we appear weak. If one of our rivals catches him first -”  


“We'll appear weak. But ...” Vaax prompted.  


“If they can turn him against us ...” D'hirt started.  


“They'll get all of our information AND humiliate us.” Isskk finished.  


“Not to mention his value as a warrior.” 

They both stared at Vaax. The full implications sinking in.  


“It could mean all out war between the clans ...”  


“Intergalactic war...”  


“We'd best not let him be captured then should we?” Vaax turned back to the monitors as though that answered everything. He swiped through pages as his oldest friends stared at him like he had lost his mind. Finally finding what he had been looking for he turned back to face them. “The Imperials have leaked his location to Dosha. I just finished a call with the rest of the black scale elders and we have determined a course of action.” 

Both D'hirt and Isskk straightened to attention, eager to receive their orders. 

“You two are assigned to our hunt and retrieval team. Your choice of which pack.” 

Good, at least they knew that he'd be safe with them.  


“If you can't retrieve M'rut then you are to eliminate him. Am I clear?” 

That stunned them both. They stood in silence for a moment before D'hirt couldn't take it anymore.  


“After all the effort, all the anguish, are you seriously ordering your son's death!?”  


“D'hirt, he -” Isskk tried but it was in vain.  


“No! I want to hear him say it.” 

He stood still as a statue, only his breathing revealed he was alive. “Millions would die.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “The CLAN would die” He turned to face them. “No one life is worth risking that. You have your orders.” It was just the barest twitch of his upper lip, so minute Isskk doubted anyone besides himself and Vaax's mate would have noticed. That was all he would show of how much the current situation bothered him. All he could show. As they turned to leave Vaax said, “Additional information has been sent to your datapads.” 

Isskk nodded and D'hirt made a disgusted grunt.  


The door closed with a whoosh. “This is bullshit,” D'hirt declared.  


“You're lucky he lets you get away with that.”  


D'hirt glared at him.  


“Come on, let's check out our real briefing. Usually there's more to it.”  


“Going to be another 6 months before I can see Crah'hai again.” D'hirt grumbled as he followed. 

They technically weren't allowed in the commanders' rec room but they were such a common sight on the command deck that the lone Trandoshan on a treadmill payed them no mind. Isskk pulled out his datapad while D'hirt sulked next to him on the bench. The Imperials reported him being taken to Ryloth where black scale intelligence said he had managed to escape with some rebels. Ryloth was the Twi'lek homeworld. Known for its deadly fauna and hot temperature. The locals operated in clans and were generally non hostile, although a resistance movement was reportedly growing. The real question was what they wanted with M'rut. 

D'hirt had given up sulking and was reading over Isskk's shoulder. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, there weren't any local Trandoshan populations for him to hide in. Uh oh. 

D'hirt looked at him as he read the same part that he had. There was another clan's ship hunting on Ryloth already. They weren't going to get there in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, it's fun writing our trandoshan friends. It looks like Vaax might be big man on campus, but he's not the one in charge of the whole shebang. Even he must play politics. I used this mostly to break up the action and practice writing extensive dialogue. I rather enjoyed it. Although there hasn't been a part so far that I didn't like writing.  
> Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!


	10. Odd Company pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the crash our band of prisoners must work together to escape the jungle. All while dangerous hazards lurk along their path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to come out. I had family over and then a friend lost a cat who was later found... It's been rather distracting. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

20 minutes later, Ryloth surface

M'rut opened his eyes to see the pale blank face of Senki staring at him. He lurched backwards and hit his head on the overhead compartment. It popped open in protest, striking him again. He groaned. Senki hadn't moved herself so much as slumped forward. He caught her and stared before realizing he couldn't actually tell if her eyes were open or not. He was close enough that he thought he could smell internal bleeding. She didn't smell dead though. Death had a unique and pungent odor, but he had been having trouble smelling her emotions earlier. Perhaps this was similar? His mind was a little foggy but he knew of one way to check. He started to shake her. She flopped back and forth like a dead fish. He shook her harder. 

With a gasp her tiny hands shot up to grab his fingers. “Please put me down,” she rasped.  


He grunted and set her down on the floor where she rubbed her neck gingerly. He looked around for the jedi who he found disengaging from his restraints. Lars was fiddling with his own but seemed to be having trouble. Wulfrik wasn't in the shuttle and Hep was slumped in his harness. He'd deal with the pink thing later. He ripped through his bindings with his claws and stood to loom over the blue skinned chiss for a moment as he assessed him for injuries. 

He looked up at M'rut. He reeked of fear and apprehension, but showed none of it save a wrinkling at his temples. 

He seemed otherwise unhurt. Good. As he opened his mouth to say something M'rut brushed past him towards Hep's comatose form. The duros did not smell of death either, which was also good, but they needed to get moving. He heard the jedi activate his lightsaber, and despite the scent of blood he didn't smell any signs of hostility. Most likely cutting the restraints then. He grabbed Hep's shoulder and shook him, more gently than last time. 

Hep's eyes creaked open and he groaned. 

M'rut shook him a little more and gave him an encouraging smile. 

His eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp. “Karabast! What big teeth you have!”  


M'rut frowned. He'd always been told he had a nice smile ... He'd need to practice later, assuming that they remained a team. No sense in frightening packmates. Hep's harness appeared undamaged and so M'rut left him to unbuckle himself. 

The duros “pilot” muttered something about “crazy lizards,” as he turned. 

Lars was standing up and the chiss had his weapon still ignited. The smell of ozone and blood was getting oppressive in the cramped environment, which reminded him. He wouldn't be the only one who could smell it ether. Best to fix that sooner rather than later. First the jedi's name. “Jedi, if we are to work together I will need your name ... Also to borrow your blade.” Good, that sounded reasonable. Not a big deal, just the name and a favor from the person he might owe a life debt to... no problem.  


“Very well, I suppose that will facilitate cooperation towards our survival.” He rubbed his chin. “My core name is Teth. May I ask your name?” He handed the blade over as he did. 

M'rut had no idea what a core name was but it was progress. “You may call me M'rut.”  


He heard Hep grumble “Already triple the words he said to me ...” *sigh* He'd have to make that up to him. He cauterized the stump of the purge trooper's neck. That should keep away most predators for a time.  


Teth adjusted his tan … it reminded M'rut of the gis he had seen adjudicators wear on a smaller clan ships. It also looked similar to the picture of a jedi he saw as a hatchling. 

He shuddered. How the padawan had managed to match the ancient order's seeming uniform was beyond him. Even that style was almost outlawed. He personally didn't know why the empire was so interested in this one. By his own admission he -  


Teth interrupted his train of thought saying, “It is good to meet you Mroot,” 

He internally winced at the butchering of his name. 

”We should get moving, I doubt the Empire will delay their pursuit for very long.”  


The jedi was right. They wouldn't have much time before hunters were on them. He mentally kicked himself for getting so distracted. The others stood to join them as M'rut nodded his agreement.  


The air outside was hot and humid. It almost reminded him of dosha. There were massive trees everywhere, some of which had caught fire from the crash and were now leaking tarry black smoke. Thick patches of foliage were interspersed over the ground. He was certain that if he spent more time examining them there would be a pattern but his attention was drawn to Wulfrik kneeling down, trying to stuff the medical packs from the escape pod into his backpack. 

He turned as their feet crunched on leaves and glared at them. 

They didn't have time for a dominance fight right now so M'rut decided to lay out the facts of the situation. “The Empire will be on us any minute now. We need to get moving.”  


He scowled at that but clearly agreed. ”Aye, but I won't be taking any orders from you. You scaly bastard.” 

He wasn't surprised by the push back, it almost reminded him of a hunter feeling his position threatened. They'd have to settle this sooner rather than later before the pack was endangered by it. “Fine, we need to get moving though.”  


“Actually, I was wondering if I could get your names before we proceed,” the jedi, or Teth he supposed, interjected.  


They didn't have time for this. He pointed to each one in turn as Lars opened his mouth to answer. “Hep, Senki, Lars, and Wulfrik.”  


“What the fuck? First he doesn't talk, and now he knows all of our names?” Hep soto voced to Senki who shrugged. 

M'rut examined the party. Hep wore some mass produced grey clothes. He didn't look out of shape, but he was no fearsome warrior. His red, reptilian eyes darted back and forth not unlike an addict. With frequent breaks, he'd keep up. Lars too wore common clothes underneath a tan robe. It looked to be cut in the jedi style. His black hair also matched the traditional padawan braid. No wonder he'd been found out. It was difficult to tell under the robe, but he didn't think he was out of shape. He'd have to keep an eye on him. He didn't look or smell like he appreciated the danger they were in. Wulfrik wore body armor over camoflaged clothing. His arms were visible to show off his muscle definition and his pink skin was mottled in what almost looked like patterns. His face looked humanoid and was covered in a surprisingly kempt beard with many small braids coming from it. More of a concern of him abandoning them rather than keeping up. Teth looked fit and stoic. His otherwise short hair ended in another padawan braid. He'd be fine, M'rut would make sure of it. Senki's blue ribbed jumpsuit wouldn't be a problem, but the fact that her legs didn't reach his knees in height would. He only saw one way around this.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

M'rut loomed over Senki who slowly turned to face him.  


“H-Hello M'rot, h-how can I help you?“ she said in her ethereal voice.  


“You will slow us down. I cannot allow this.”  


She gulped. That sounded final. She hadn't met any trandoshans before him and their reputation left a lot to be desired. Vicious thugs and murderers. So far he had matched the vicious part but had been polite enough. ... In an awkward … serial killer ... way … ... Great maker, he was going to kill her. 

He reached behind his back. 

Wulfrik stood up as Hep took a step back. 

This was it.  


“Don't you dare,” growled Wulfrik, but it was too late. 

He brought a large object down at her. She tried to reach out to him telepathically, hoping to make some connection that would save her. His mind was … cold , afraid and irritated? Not exactly the most murderous thoughts. The bulky object slammed down in front of her. She jumped back and let out an involuntary “Eeep!” Curse these vocal cords. Sometimes they felt more like a curse than a blessing. Most of her kind didn't have them, it was a rare mutation which proved useful among outsiders and served to isolate herself from the rest of her species. The object in front of her was … his backpack? What was he...  


“You will have to stay in here while we travel.”  


Hep snickered.  


“You can't be serious.” Came Wulfrik's response.  


She wasn't thrilled by the idea either. She did sense that Wulfrik actually liked the thought, it reminded him of – _oh no_ – too deep, too dark. She shouldn't of … best to leave it be. He didn't want to support anything M'rut had suggested though. The two were interlinked. She should probably give her verdict. “I'd rather not but -”  


“See? She doesn't want to.” Vindictive joy, anger.  


“I would leave the top open so you would not be hindered.” Annoyance, … apology? Fear.  
“

I - ”  


“Besides that, why should we trust her to you?” Hatred, pain, never again.  


“We really should -” Teth, a peace maker made warrior.  


“Rich coming from the one who was stealing medical supplies while everyone was unconscious.” Uh oh. Anger, scorn, this felt exactly like when they had been about to fight aboard the the imperial ship.  


“Hey guys, there's no need for this. We're all friends here.” Lars trying to solve the problem. It wasn't going to work.  


“The baby eating monster is going to -” He wants the fight now. Only in blood can it be repaid.  


_“ENOUGH!'_  


The word blared through all of those present's minds. Senki did not want to use it, most aliens hated the intrusion, but they wouldn't listen to her otherwise. She couldn't produce enough volume. 

Everyone stared at her in shock. 

She shuddered, the attention was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable but necessary. She stepped into the bag before glaring at Wulfrik. “I don't need anyone to speak on my behalf.” He looked down in shame. She turned her stare at M'rut who was feeling smug. 

He blinked. 

“And wasn't it you who said that the Empire would be on our tails soon?” 

He now looked like a scolded child. 

Hep snickered and Senki leveled her sights on him. He paled and raised his hands in surrender.  


“Now if you don't mind,” she pulled the edges of the bag up and gestured at M'rut with one of the straps. “We should really be going.”  


He picked up the backpack without further comment and as gently as he could, put it on. 

It was not dissimilar to when he had shaken her earlier. She tried not to throw up. It was even more messy than when those with mouths did. She didn't think any of them would want to hurt her, but they still made her uneasy. Only Hep and Lars weren't double her size. They might squish her on accident. She had been much more careful about that since it had happened on her first job alone. The party gathered their equipment before setting off. 

Wulfrik gave up on getting the second medkit to fit and tossed it to Hep, who muttered a non-committal thanks.  


“So, where should we go?” Lars said, asking the real question. 

As far as Senki could tell everything looked the same. Trees and dirt covered in leaves and scattered foliage.  


“There's a beast path heading there and there,” M'rut pointed.  


“I see some moss growing on this side of the tree. Means it's north.” Came Wulfrk from behind a trunk.  


“Most of the settlements should be beyond the equatorial band to the north or south.”  


“One of the paths went north. I say we follow that.”  


“A good plan.” She sensed a pang of annoyance from M'rut as he said it. 

As they set off Hep sidled up to Lars and asked, “What does equatorial mean?” 

M'rut shook his head as they set off.  


The jungle air caused the fabric portions of her jumpsuit to cling uncomfortably and prevented any useful perspiration. The only member of the party who seemed unaffected by the climate was M'rut. Even Wulfrik was bogged down by the oppressive heat. 

After 20 minutes of relatively silent marching Hep finally gasped out, “How in the hells are you not dying like the rest of us?”  


“This place is much like my home on Dosha.” M'rut smiled to himself. “This is the first time I've been warm in months.”  


Hep stared in disbelief. “What the fuck?”  


Teth looked thoughtful for a moment before asking “I thought your people were named trandoshans? Shouldn't that make your planet Trandosha?” 

Huh. It hadn't occurred to Senki.  


M'rut shrugged. “The prefix tran means the people of. Traditionalists call it Dosha still, while many have adopted aliens' ways and call it Trandosha. Eventually the council will vote on it again.” He sounded rather uninterested by the whole idea.  


“No one cares about your peoples' politics lizard.” Wulfrik of course. There was an old pain for him every time M'rut spoke.  


“And where are you from ...” M'rut was genuinely curious and … embarrassed?  


“I am from the -”  


“*Huff* I've got a better question. *Huff* Where even are we now?”  


Wulfrik scowled.  


“I think this is Ryloth. My father took me here when I was a child. The fauna are supposed to be extremely dangerous.” 

She didn't think that Hep had really expected an answer, especially one as disquieting as that.  


“So are we talking like huge monsters or poisonous little guys, or...” Hep was radiating fear.  


“Mostly large and armored. This trail was likely made by gurkins.” he said gesturing at the cleared debris they had been following.  


“A-and th-those are?”  


“Insects the size of assault droids, and just as armored. Senki, would you hand me my data pad?”  


“Oh, of course.” she squeaked. She hadn't been expecting that and rifled around her feet for the pad.  


“Isn't that my freaking luck. Get eaten by giant bug monsters.”  


She handed it to M'rut who began to scroll through it immediately. She peeked over his shoulder to look at what he was doing. Various pink skinned species were scrolling past the screen. What was he looking for? “M'rot, what is it you are looking for?”  


He looked like he had forgotten that she was there. “... Uhh ...” he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “I might be having trouble … identifying all of your species.” He sounded so shy. It was almost adorable. “Please, do not tell the others.”  


His anxiousness was palpable. How could she refuse? “Of course not.” She leaned in. “Let's start with the ones you do know.”  


For the next several hours they switched between identifying the party's races, idle chatter, and waiting for the others to catch up. As a break was called Senki was released from her tiny prison. 

M'rut plopped down and broke out two ration bars he had in his bag. 

Hep collapsed nearby as he tried to recover. Lars and Teth managed to do so with more dignity. Wulfrik harumphed down and chugged water. 

M'rut broke one of the bars in half and gave one to Senki and Hep “You are both in need of the most energy.” he said as he did so.  


“Why Senki? She's just been in your backpack.” Wulfrik groused.  


“She was injured in the crash.”  


“Mmmm” The other bar was broken among Lars, Wulfrik, and Teth.  


“Don't you need energy too?” Lars asked.  


“Not as much as the rest of you.”  


Wulfrik huffed and broke his piece in half and offered it to M'rut. The rest of them settled into an amicable silence as they ate their stale snacks and the two argued. Some minutes later a ship roared overhead. They all stared up. She sensed the most distress from M'rut. He knew who that was. She looked at him and the others followed her gaze.  


He swallowed. “That was a trandoshan drop ship.”  


Everyone generally cried out in alarm.  


“Friends of yours?” Wulfrik said icily.  


“No. Definitely not. That was a small ship. Veteran hunters. They're after something. Or someone”  


Wulfrik visibly relaxed a fraction at that. “It looked like they were headed for our crash site. Bounty hunters?”  


“I have no idea, but we need to leave. Now.” 

That received a unanimous agreement. Senki leapt back into the bag and they set off at a good pace for a time. Unfortunately the same oppressive atmosphere from before sapped their energy. Senki kept a lookout as they moved. Hep continued to lag behind the rest of them. After the second time they almost lost him she mostly kept an eye on him. This went on for another hour or so before they were forced to stop. Senki was let out again. And walked to stretch her legs.  


“We are being followed.” M'rut declared. 

The others gathered around him. 

Senki kept shaking the stiffness out of her legs.  


“Is it the trandoshans?” asked Teth.  


“No. I've been hearing broken branches and movement.” M'rut answered.  


“I've heard it too. I thought it was Hep at first.” Wulfrik was being surprisingly civil. That was good. The impending doom seemed to be uniting them all. They might just get out of this. She heard rustling behind her. She turned to see a great maw descending upon her.  
_“Uh oh.”_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

M'rut turned to see a gurkin mauling Senki. The name didn't sound quite right to him, but that didn't matter right now. It was 7 feet tall at the back with legs similar to crickets'. It had a squat body with a small balancing thorax. It's head was large but squat, having little to no neck, and all of it was covered in chitinous armored plates. Instead of mandibles it had teeth in it's maw and beady glaring eyes above them. Senki was being shaken in one's mouth while a second one lurked at the edge of the path. 

The others drew their weapons but M'rut drew the severed head of the purge trooper. He hurled it at the beast that had Senki and nailed it right between it's eyes. It stopped its shaking and blinked at M'rut. He let out a roar that shook the canopy. 

Both creatures focused their attention squarely on him. He might have made a mistake. 

Senki was spat onto the floor and both of the beasts closed in on him. He deployed his pike and made ready. 

Wulfrik joined him and with a nod they charged. Sentient and beast let out roars as they met. M'rut slid under the bite of the beast on the left and used the momentum to puncture through its leg. 

It shrieked and hobbled away from him. 

Wulfrik brought his sword straight down on the lunging creature's head plate, embedding in the thick shell and halting its momentum. 

The injured one leapt at M'rut. It clamped it's jaws on his pike and they wrestled for control. 

M'rut found his mind wandering without his music. Gurkin wasn't right. What was their name? 

Wulfrik wrenched his blade free and squared off with the beast. From the corner of his eye he saw Hep drag Senki away from the battle. _Huh._ This was an unusual experience for M'rut. It was stronger than him. He was being pushed back. … He had it!  
“I've remembered their name! They're gutkurrs!” he called out.  


“Why in the name of my ancestors do we care!?” Wulfrik cried.  


M'rut was slammed into a tree. “I don't like to – Urrkk,” Another *slam*, “Give out faulty -Urk *slam* information!” *slam*  


“Wonderful!” he pushed the creature off of his blade. “I'm sure your ancestors will be pleased as you're EATEN!” he gave a painful gash to his gutkurr's side. It let out a warbling cry. 

M'rut found himself being flung through the air. He hadn't reacted fast enough to let go of the pike and landed heavily. 

The other gutkurr turned its back on Wulfrik and sank its teeth into M'rut. 

He let out a hissing roar as it ripped into his flesh. 

Wulfrk tried to exploit the opening but the creature's armor was too thick. 

The other latched onto his lower abdomen and pulled. He felt his muscles tearing. This was looking like the end. To die without his points? He'd be condemned to the pits and hunted for all eternity! _No! Not! Like! This!_  


One had its maw latched around his shoulder joint, pinning his left arm in place. The other seemed intent on gutting him. 

With his one free arm he retracted his pike. 

Wulfrik finally cracked the hard carapace of the beast's thorax. It split its attention from ravaging M'rut for a moment and that was when he struck. 

He drove the retracted goad into the monstrosity's eye and activated it. 

It reeled backwards and convulsed as the current ran through it's body. It let out a keening screech that echoed through the canopy. 

*Fsshh* The jedi had entered the fray. 

The one gnawing on his guts dropped him as its partner turned to face the new pair. Seemingly driven mad by the pain the heavily injured one launched itself at them. 

Teth side stepped and struck its soft underbelly while Wulfrik used his hilt to drive its lunge into the ground. 

Clearly feeling no loyalty to its kin the one M'rut had fought earlier turned back to him. 

He could barely move. His torso was a mess. He did all he could and glared defiance at it. 

So slowly it felt like it was doing it on purpose, it opened its fang filled mouth. 

A blaster bolt interrupted his melodramatic death, blasting a small crater in its head plate. It whirled around towards the offender. 

Senki was propped up in a sitting position between Lars and Hep who were still covered in blood and medical wrappers. They scrambled for their own weapons as the creature let out a hiss of challenge. 

The one facing Wulfrik and Teth was thrashing on the ground on its back as the pair continued to rain blows down upon it. 

The trio dove out of the way as their opponent ran head first into one of the mighty trees. They continued to pepper it with bolts to little effect but to confuse the creature. A lucky bolt struck the spot pierced by M'rut's pike. 

It let out a howl and another bolt hit its neck as it raised its head. 

Teth and Wulfrik finished off the other gutkurr and turned to the remaining one. 

Senki hobbled over to M'rut in the ensuing chaos and pushed him onto his back. She looked over his injuries and pulled out a large needle. 

The party had managed to flip the remaining gutkurr and were finishing it as it cried out pitiably. 

Senki injected the needle and a roar sounded through the forest. 

M'rut knew that something had caught their scent.  


His eyes snapped open. He recognized that roar. They had to get going.  


“You've got to be kidding me man. More of them?” Hep sounded exhausted.  


M'rut felt new energy fill him as he sat up. “No, That is a lylek. The most dangerous predator on this planet.”  


The ground began to shake. It felt like many fast footfalls. “So, like another big angry bug?”  


Senki climbed into M'rut's backpack again. “A big angry bug, leading many smaller bugs.”  


“So a swarm?” Lars asked.  


“Led by a matriarch. That was her call we heard.” M'rut lifted Senki in the backpack and put it on. Trees could be heard cracking and falling. 

“So we should like get going then?” Hep said as he started moving away from the noise. 

Through the trees M'rut could see skinny insectoid shapes rushing in.  


“Yes!” 

They didn't need to be told twice as the creatures came into view. A thin reed like body supported on six spear like legs, a set of spine covered tentacles came from the base of their neck and a pair of enormous pincers sprout from their head. Only the underbelly wasn't covered in spiked carapace. The rushing horde of smaller beasts stood at 6 feet tall, but towering over twice their height was the matriarch. 

Humanoid and animal sprinted north. Most of the smaller creatures became distracted by the bodies of the gutkurrs but a few followed the matriarch after them. The monsters weren't slowed down by the treacherous footing of the jungle, nor the humidity. 

Hep continued to struggle behind the group. 

M'rut was invigorated by the stimpack, but that would only last for so long. They had no idea how far from the edge of the jungle they were. The trees were beginning to thin out and they could see a granite cliff pocked with tunnels and caves. 

Hep's foot caught as he looked up. With a "Whuff,” he fell face first into the undergrowth. The only one to see this despite his position near the front was Wulfrik.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Damnit,” he growled as he turned. The creatures would be on Hep in a few moments. There was nothing for it then. He unhooked the severed hand from his belt and tossed it at the half dozen smaller creatures. 

It sailed just over their heads. Two lunged for it and ended up tangling with the others. Immediately they descended into a frenzy of violence. 

Wulfrik had honestly not expected that to work so well. 

Hep was pushing himself off of the ground as he made it to him. 

Not bothering with pleasantries he threw Hep over his shoulder and went after the rest of the party. From the thunderous stomps the matriarch was still after them. He didn't dare look. Fortunately Hep was there to give him the play by play.  


“Whoa man! They're just going nuts. … Uhh, the really big one is getting closer!”  


Wulfrik could see a tree fall out of the corner of his eye. Definitely close. So was the edge of the forest though. _Damn._ His padded vest combined with the blasted humidity was slowing him down. Carrying 70 odd kilograms of Duros didn't help either. “Maybe I should have dropped that medkit,” he thought as he passed the tree line. Maybe 10 more meters of open ground to the tunnel where that green electromancer was waving frantically at them. 

A barbed tentacle lanced past his shoulder passing just over Hep.  


“Whoa man, run faster!”  


Thanks Hep. He was just going half speed before, now he'll pick it up. 

Another of those strange pseudopods scraped against his leg, tearing a section of cloth away. _2 meters._

He saw the shadow of the claw pass over him. Without hesitation, he lobbed Hep into the opening. 

The leg in question smashed down to block off Wulfrik's escape. 

He always knew that he would end violently, he just had hoped that his love was waiting for him when he got there. A certain part of him hoped she wasn't. _Not yet._ He drew his blade and let out a roar of challenge. 

A tentacle shot out at him and he parried. The other tried for his leg but he knocked it to the ground. 

Its blubbery appendages seemed to resist his blade's cuts. Not good. 

A leg raised up to strike. 

He rolled out of the way of the blow and swept his great sword over another limb. He might as well be hitting stone. He was taken aback. 

It took advantage of his surprise and a tentacle wrapped itself around his bicep. He felt spines rip into his arm and suddenly he couldn't feel it any more. 

Of course the thing was venomous. Why not? 

The second tentacle wrapped around his remaining sword arm, repeating the process. 

He had hoped for a nobler end. 

The Lylek seemed to revel in his knowledge of its success. It leaned in slowly with a nasty, what he might call grin. The beast suddenly reared backwards with a shriek of pain, immediately letting him go. 

There were still sparks of electricity from the force pike of … the lizard. _Dammit._

Teth stood next to him, saber drawn. Double dammit. Best not to look the gift horse in the mouth he supposed. His hand still reflexively tightened around his great blade, he rushed for the entrance. 

The lylek tried for the same trick but was met with the jedi's lightsaber. 

He made it inside. The blasted tentacle came snaking in after them though. It was shown the way out by the lizard's goad. As they made their way beyond the entrance they could hear the matriarch's frustrated growls.  


Senki was wrapping Hep's back while Lars watched pensively. They both looked up at their approach.  


“Oh, good. I was worried we might have lost you out there,” Lars said.  


“Thanks for the save man. I owe- Ow!” 

Hep tried to turn over but was interrupted by Senki plunging a small needle into his shoulder. “Hold still. I'm almost done with the dermal patch,” she lectured.  


“Didn't need to make your point that hard.”  


“Do you want to stop breathing as the paralysis spreads?”  


“Uh … No?”  


“Then hold still!”  


The lizard slumped down against the wall of the tunnel. He left a thick smear of blood as he slid. 

That didn't look good. 

Teth and Lars paled while Senki continued to lecture Hep. She looked startled and turned. She eeped as she saw the scaly's condition. She tossed a syringe filled with a purple liquid at Teth and said, “Inject Wulfrk with that and apply dermal wraps to his wounds.” She hobbled over and went to work getting the reptile out of his ripped up clothes. They were dripping blood and landed with a wet *plap* as she discarded them. 

His torso was a mess. Covered in deep lacerations, one of his arms was similarly mangled. There wasn't the network of scars that he had been expecting, although there certainly would be after this. Wulfrik didn't notice the prick of the anti-venom into his unfeeling arms. 

Senki rummaged through her own medical supplies as Lars and Teth began to spray his bleeding injuries with disinfectant. He began to feel tired himself and slid down the wall of the tunnel. Breathing felt harder than it should as he began to drift off. … Just going to rest for a minute. … He'll … find them … later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give some of the other characters a chance to shine. Our boy M'rut is formidable, but I felt we needed a reminder that he isn't invincible. I wanted to ground Senki for the audience as she is the most alien of them to us. Needed a peek inside her noggin to get a feel for her as a character. Also let us peek at Wulfrik's history. I didn't think that I needed to beat the audience quite so hard over the head with his trauma related to trandoshans, I just felt that it would echo in his mind every time M'rut spoke. *kicks club under couch* Senki was fun to write and trying to convey just how awkward M'rut is was somewhat challenging.  
> The actual session was ... very short. We did a little chatter, but none of the drama happened (Wulfrik's player was too busy messing around with Teth's to remember to hate M'rut. *shrug* it happens. We were all getting a better idea of our characters at that time.) M'rut did take 14 of 16 health damage during the fight, so that's where that came from. We didn't engage with the lylek at all in the session and got away scot free (Hep did fall though). That's boring though, so I spiced it up.  
> Stimpacks don't make sense to me for healing wounds, so I went with the temporary boost thing. I imagine that a trandoshan might get enough of a metabolic boost to heal that quickly, but not most folk. I could go with nano bots or bacta, but I wanted injuries to be more serious. So no cure all drug ... usually.  
> (shooting for another "chapter" next weekend. Wish me luck.)  
> As always, Comments and criticisms are encouraged (how can I improve without feedback?) and I hope you enjoyed!


	11. Odd Company Pt3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our party, after resting, must deal with their pursuers. Along the way they find unexpected trouble and help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No excuse for the lateness of this. I just had trouble writing for Teth. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, more that I couldn't focus while writing his section. Initially had the same problem with Wulfrik too, but it got easier. So, this style change is something my editor has been wanting me to do for some time. I'm not sure if it will translate well over to this site, but here's hoping.

2 minutes later, Northern Ryloth tunnels

Wulfrik had passed out. Teth hoped that it was exhaustion rather than the poison stopping his heart. 

He began to snore and Teth relaxed a bit. Senki was stitching up M'root while Hep was using his backpack as a pillow and Lars was watching the entrance to the cave system. 

Teth turned to him. “I believe we should set up a watch while the others rest,”  


Lars turned to face him, “That would probably be wise. Between the monsters and the trandoshans we have more than enough problems.”  


Teth nodded, and as he was about to respond he heard a gasp from behind him. Were they under attack? He whirled around but there was no new threat.  


Senki had her hands in front of her blank face. She looked at him and muttered ”Sorry, stupid vocal cords.”  


Lars looked curiously at her and said, “What was so surprising?”  


She squirmed and replied, “I had been told about trandoshan's healing abilities, but had never seen it in person.” She gestured at M'root's arm. “The smaller injuries I had stitched together are already gone.” Sure enough there were small bits of cord sticking out of multiple points of his arm. 

If he looked hard enough he could swear that he could see the flesh re-knitting as he watched. Remarkable. The three of them stared as a smaller puncture closed before their eyes.  


“Fascinating.” Senki said “Assuming he doesn't bleed to death, he might be healed in a few days.”  


“Impressive.” muttered Teth.  


“That's cool, but I think I'll take first watch. See what's up by the jungle.” Lars then wandered back towards the entrance, leaving them alone.  


He wasn't very good at idle chatter. Still … “Will the others make it?“  


“Hep is just exhausted, and since Wulfrik is still breathing I don't think he's in danger anymore.” She turned to look at M'rut. “I am somewhat concerned about M'rut though. He's lost a lot of blood and we don't have anyone who's compatible.”  


“Hmmm … I don't suppose orange juice works the same way on him?” perhaps some levity?  


Senki pulled up a datapad and began to scroll through it. “I don't think so... Oh! Yes, very funny Teth.”  


Perhaps he should just stick to his people's ways. Facts and duty. The diminutive doctor was still scrolling through the datapad. He didn't remember her having one ... “Is that M'rut's?”  


Senki shrank a little but replied, “Oh, his datapad has information on hundreds of species. It reads like a biological journal. I was hoping it might help in saving … him.”  


That's unexpected. Perhaps the trandoshan was a biologist? What sort of creatures was he studying that drew the empire's attention? This … person, was certainly an enigma.  


“Huh. Have you heard of blood worms?” she asked.  


“Vermin. They live in shallow pools of water or damp soil. They eat small creatures. Why?”  


“They are used as a restorative and treat by trandoshans. Like orange juice.”  


“So you want me to find some?”  


“I think it will help.”  


With that Teth turned and moved purposefully towards the entrance.

Lars nodded at him as he passed. 

The creatures from before seemed to have moved off. The jungle seemed eerily silent. What had M'root called them? Lyleks? That sounded right. Such a strange biologist. He supposed that his combat skills might be basic knowledge from his people, which made him upgrade his estimates of how dangerous their new pursuers were. What were they after anyways? The most likely answer was him. He had no master, no formal training since he was 16. The empire's interest in him made no sense! He wasn't a threat! Yet he had been hunted from one planet to the next for over a decade. He was running out of ground to run to. He might be forced to face his assailants. 

He shuddered involuntarily. Flashes of blue energy pulsed in his mind. Rending his master to shreds. His side twinged in sympathy at the old wound. It would be best to avoid that if possible. He needed to get moving. The others … They might be better off without him. The trandoshans probably weren't after them anyways. He might be able to draw them off. Let the rest of them escape... 

He spotted a pool of stagnant water at the edge of the jungle. Maybe later, for now they needed his help. 

The water had a dead rodent of some type in it. The blood worms were living up to their name and swarming it. 

The wriggling beneath it's skin made him suppress the urge to vomit. M'root needed these things. … He could do this. He called upon the force and reached out to grab the worms still trying to get in the body. No danger of using his powers making their situation worse here. He also didn't want to share the fate of the rodent and have them burrowing into his skin. Now to creep back to the tunnel entrance and get a few hours of sleep. 

Lars was still standing watch at the entrance when he returned. He always seemed so quiet. He had thought that it was only the chiss who were “emotionless”. This combined with the jedi paraphernalia made him feel a certain kinship with him. He really should ask him about the robe. He probably bought it off some trader … or took it from a corpse. He shook the thought from his head. He couldn't afford to be doubting his only allies right now. Besides he seemed reliable enough. He'd have to talk to him later. He gave him another curt nod as he passed by him. 

Lars however was too transfixed by the display of force abilities to notice. “It's been so long since I've seen anyone use the force … “ He smiled as if he remembered something. “There might be some hope for the order after all.”  


Teth wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he settled on “I hope you are right,” and shuffled past with his levitating pile of worms. Lars was familiar with the order!? Could he have been a fellow padawan?! It seemed unlikely but anything was possible! If he and Lars were both jedi … could that mean the others were as well? None had displayed any force abilities thus far and certainly Wulfrik nor M'rut had the temperament of the order. … No. There had to be another reason. He reached Senki as he finished his musings. 

She turned to him and looked a little startled. It wasn't her face, or lack there of, but her posture. She might not have initially believed that he was a padawan.  


“Oh! I had almost forgotten that you can do that.” she said in her eerie voice.  


He tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.  


“Thank you. Please place them over here on the stone.”  


He did so, they writhed about, seeking dirt to escape to. Senki picked one up and hovered it in front of M'root's face. 

After a moment his eyes cracked open and he lunged forward. There was an audible snap as his jaw closed down on the worm. 

Senki “eeped” and stumbled backwards. Hep rolled onto his side at the noise. 

A *sluuuurrpp!* followed the creature's path down M'rut's gullet. 

Senki cursed as M'rut opened his eyes fully. It seemed he was back.

M'root blinked around at all of those in the tunnel. “What happened?” he croaked.  


“We drove off the lylek and Senki treated everyone's wounds.” Teth gestured at Senki who nervously waved.  


'Then it appears I owe you a debt.” he said somberly.  


“Oh, I'm a healer, you don't owe me anything.”  


Teth gave a slight smile. She had a kind heart. And an inner fire, remembering her earlier outburst. She had the strength to do great things.  


M'rut grunted and tried to stand.  
Senki launched herself and tackled him. It didn't push him back down, but it certainly got his attention. “You need to rest!” she cried.  


M'rut blinked down at her. “Okay.” He leaned forward and reached for the pile of bloodworms before lying back down.  


Teth decided it would be best to rest until his turn at watch and began to meditate. 

Senki and M'rut continued for a time after he settled down before falling silent too. He felt his worries, his concerns, all drifting away like a puff of wind.

Gunfire? The distant echo of the noise faded before being joined by a fresh volley. 

“Those are trandoshan weapons,” M'rut said as he stood.  


“Aye. I'd know that noise from anywhere” came Wulfrik's reply.  


The rest of them were joining M'rut when Lars came running back into the tunnel.“I take it you heard it too then?”  


The party nodded.  


“We need to cover our tracks. Make it harder for them to follow our scent.”  


As one the party looked to M'rut's pool of blood.  


“I don't think we can cover that up buddy.” said Hep with a shrug.  


“No, but we can use it.” M'rut kneeled down and picked up the remains of his shirt and dipped them in the blood.  


“Clever. They won't be able to get our scent over the smell of blood” Wulfrik said joining him in doing so.  


“Won't this make us easier to track?” asked Lars.  


Teth agreed with his reservations on the matter but merely nodded.  


“By giving them such an easy trail to follow we can take them where we want,” started M'rut.  


“And make them think we're wounded when they get there,” finished Wulfrik. They both looked at each other warily at having agreed on something.  


Lars looked at Teth and shrugged before taking a scrap of M'rut's shirt.  


“So no one's going to find this weird at all?” complained Hep.  


“When in Couracant,” replied Senki as she took her proffered fabric.  


“You are all crazy,” muttered Hep as he took his own rag and started to soak it.

The tunnel reeked of blood as the party made its way down deeper into the depths. Teth kept expecting a branching path to lure their pursuers down but none materialized. 

“So do you think they were fighting those lyleks or something else?” Lars asked.  


“The swarm tends to be in the same area for some time … It is likely the lyleks.” replied M'rut.  


“Why are they even after us?” Hep whined. “We've been missing for less than a day! There's no way a bounty's been posted by now.”  


Hep was right. It would be the most catastrophic luck that the trandoshans happened to be in the system. They had to have been following them for some reason, but why?  


M'rut paused before saying, “Has anyone here offended one of the trandoshan clans?”  


“I certainly intend to,” said Wulfrik. 

Everyone looked at him. 

“But not yet.”  


“You're the first trandoshan that I've met,” said Senki. The others murmured their agreements.  


“What about you? That scar didn't just appear.” Wulfrik commented dryly.  


M'rut rubbed the injury before saying with a cold anger, “My debt to my clan has already been paid in full.” There was a moment of silence as they processed that. “We should keep moving,” he said a little too quickly. No one argued as they made their way silently down the dark tunnel. 

Some minutes more of walking without any branches revealed a source of light. Strange, “Wasn't it turning into night when we entered here?” Teth asked.  


“Yes, which means we've found some form of civilization” replied M'rut.  


“Finally! Let's see if they have a ship off of this mud ball!” Hep said joyously.  


He was restrained by Wulfrik's massive hand before he could start towards presumed settlement. “Imperials use lights too, Hep,” came Wulfrik's gravely response.  


“We should scout this place out.” Teth said. 

The party reluctantly crept slowly forwards. Nothing was immediately apparent until they reached the mouth of the tunnel. From there they saw a collection of tents and small campfires.  


“Still think they're imperials?” Hep said sarcastically.  


“Still think they can get you off this rock?” Replied Wulfrik.  


Hep scowled.  


A person came out of the tents. She was a twi'lek much like those who had rescued them. Teth wasn't familiar with the clothing designs or clan markings of twi'lek society, but he could sense that they were related in some way. He felt that the force was drawing him to these people. “I will go and speak with them,” he declared. 

The others all looked at him like he was mad.  


“Uh, you feeling alright Mr. not a jedi? Braid on a little too tight?” came Hep's usual snark.  


“Are you sure that's wise?” asked M'rut. The other two nodded.  


Wulfrik shrugged, “He's an adult, he can do as he likes.”  


Teth felt he needed to explain himself, “I can feel the force calling me to them. They're a part of the group who freed us.”  


“Like the force is telling you that?” asked Lars a little awe in his voice.  


“Yes.”  


“Force, shmorse! What do we do if they open fire?” Came Hep's reply.  


“I'd be more concerned about their reaction to Mroot.” Everyone turned to look at the trandoshan.  


“It's M'rut, not Mroot. You have to growl with the r.”  


“Oh. My apologies.”  


He waved his concerns away, saying, “I will stay in the tunnel.”  


“Say, those guys were real into jedi? I think I'll stick with you magic man.”  


Wulfrik raised an eyebrow. “I think the rest of us should stay back and assess their reaction.” No one had any complaints about that, although Senki folded her arms and looked at Hep.  


Teth chose not to worry about it for now. He needed to focus on convincing the villagers to help them. They left their bloody rags with the others and walked out of the tunnel into the clearing beyond. They passed by an outcrop of rocks and they didn't know it but a pair of twi'leks started to follow them. There were dozens of rough hide tents surrounding a fire pit where a group of women were handing out food to the other villagers from a pot that appeared to be be made of shell. The group turned to look at them as they approached. “Hello, I was hoping that you might aide us. We -”  


A blaster barrel was place firmly into his back. “Chu-chiwanni, slaemo.” said his unseen assailant.  


Teth had no idea what that meant, but put his hands up anyways.  


“Listen guys, this man here is a jedi. Do you know what that means?” said an exacerbated Hep.  


“Technically I'm not.” replied Teth. He hadn't completed the trials to make him a knight before the order had been destroyed. He supposed that he never would now-  


“Work with me here!” Hep whispered urgently. He turned back to the twi'leks. “He's a JEDI. A FRIEND.”  


They just stared at them uncomprehendingly.  


“Shiwana bato to-remi-ma!” shouted the one behind Hep as he jabbed him with the barrel of his blaster.  


“So much for negotiations,” grumbled Hep as they were pushed deeper into the camp.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The two twi'leks started to follow the jedi and the loudmouth. Wulfrik started to move in on their ambushers but M'rut put a scaly claw on his shoulder. He turned to face it, “They're going to kill them.”  


The lizard shook its head, “They're going to interrogate them.” It pointed up at two spots on the chamber walls.  


He didn't see anything but darkness. “What?”  


“There are snipers on outcroppings along the walls already watching them.”  


“I don't see anything up there.”  


“I didn't realize your species' thermal vision was that good.” came Senki from behind them.  


Lars hmm'd thoughtfully, stroking his chin.  


“The one on the left had a small fire that drew my attention. If I hadn't been looking then I wouldn't have noticed.”  


Wulfrik's respect for the monster went up a notch. That information explained a few things back on Wiek. These things were full of surprises. “So what do we do? We can't leave them.”  


“We could join them,” suggested Lars.  


“Absolutely not! There's no way -” Wulfrik was interrupted by the pressure wave of an explosion coming from the tunnel shortly followed by the sound.  


“They've spotted us.” said M'rut.  


“What? How?”  


“Wulfrik, cover the rear, the rest of you follow me.” Without a further word he started marching into the middle of the camp. The other two scrambled to follow the shirtless lizard.  


Dammit. He started after them. This was the worst idea. Dozens of rifles had to be trained on them, with who knew how many more from the tents. He just didn't have any other ideas. Dammit. “What are we doing?” He sotto voced to the lizard.  


“We are going to their leader,” M'rut said nonchalantly.  


That was the plan!? Might as well ask to be shot! AND they're doing it with a slaver! Sigh He really should have prayed to the gods more. The villagers stared in stunned silence at their procession. They even passed armed guards, but not a soul dared to stop them. He couldn't believe this was working. They were coming up on the pair escorting their … allies? Definitions were fluid at that moment.  


Regardless, as they approached all Wulfrik could hear was the irritated tones of the duros. “No. YOU don't get it! We're your ALLIES! He's a JEDI and everything!”  


“Hep, I think he wants you to be quiet.” Teth said urgently.  


No wonder the two hadn't heard their approach! Loud mouth was being true to his title.  


As the one prodding Hep sighed and raised his rifle's butt a liquid growl resonated through the chamber. Both guards froze.  


“{You will take me to your leader and you will stop threatening my pilot,}” growled the lizard … in Huttese.  


What in the Hells? He wasn't sure what he had said, but he sounded pissed. The twi'leks took the hint as well and backed away with their hands up.  


“{Now where is your leader? We must speak with them}”  


The twi'leks looked blankly at each other and then at the gathering crowd.

“What is all the excitement about!” with that the crowd parted to reveal a wizened, chubby, green twi'lek ambling forwards on a cane. The twi'leks began to babble in their native tongue at blistering speed to him. 

Teth and Hep sidled back to join the rest of the group  


“He must have heard us since he spoke in basic.” Teth commented.  


“The scouts were likely keeping him informed of our progress,” M'rut agreed.  


“So, what? You think he's been expecting us?” This just kept getting more and more ridiculous. First meeting an actual jedi, then he's working with a trandoshan of all things, and now the twi'leks that they happened to find might be the ones who rescued them in the first place? This was getting stupid. The gods must be having a laugh at his expense, surely?  


The doddering old man waddled towards them as the villagers seemed to quiet down. “Now, neither the Hutts or the Empire typically send such ...” he paused and looked them all over. “eclectic hunting parties.” He straightened and put both hands on his cane. “So if it's not the empire or the hutts, then who sent you?”  


“We recently escaped the empire and - “ Teth started to explain their situation but was interrupted by M'rut.  


“Apologies elder, but we have a more pressing concern.”  


The old twi'lek looked mildly surprised,as though he hadn't expected the outburst. 

For its part, M'rut sounded as close to frantic as Wulfrik had heard so far. “There is a team of trandoshan hunters right on our trail.” it gestured with the bloody rags at him as though he'd know what to do with them. ”We used these bandages to disguise our scents but now they'll lead them straight to us!”  


What did it want the old man to do about it? 

The old twi'lek looked at the bloody remains of the lizard's shirt, looked it in the eye, and then nodded. “Follow me,” he said.

The old man began barking orders at the milling twi'leks pretending to not be staring at their motley gang. They scrambled to obey whatever commands had been issued in their strange tongue.  


“What was THAT?” whisperd Hep.  


“He is an elder. He'll know what to do,” stated M'rut as though that explained everything.  


Hep stared at him in disbelief. “That's not how that works! He could be taking us right to them!”  


“I don't sense any ill will from the man,” said Teth.  


“I agree with Teth,” replied Senki.  


Hep looked at Lars for help, who said calmly, “Getting upset about it won't help Hep. What's done is done.”  


He gave one last pleading look to Wulfrik who shrugged and made a non-committal grunt. The green electromancer was right.  


Hep shook his head. “You all are crazy.”  


The old man looked back at them and Wulfrik could have sworn he was smiling.  


The villagers were packing things away. Were they leaving? That would be suspicious wouldn't it? The old man had to know that. What was he planning? He couldn't tell where they were going in the cave system. It was open to the air, but he couldn't really get a feel for their location amongst the maze of rustic tents. These were barbaric looking even by his people's standards. They were different from the ones at the edge of the village. They looked to be made of shell plating or bark and sewn together with sinew or twine. There were wheels to the side of many of the tents. He saw some of them attaching these wheels to the tents and folding them up. Huh. Clever. The tents were both protection and carts.  


They reached a larger example of the craft where an older twi'lek woman was tending to a child still in swaddling. She turned as they approached. Her recovery from the shock of their unusual appearance was better than the others they had met. 

She said something in their tongue to the elder who replied in basic, “I need you to make it look like you operated with these as bandages.”  


She stared at him as though he had sprouted a second head. 

Wulfrik snorted. 

The lizard glared at him briefly. 

The look on her face was funny, so sue him.  


“O-of course Matjik,”she said, still clearly uncertain.  


“I would like some of the hunters to leave a false trail from here.” 

M'rut continued to stare at him.  


”I will, in the meantime hide our guests.” 

The look of shock might as well be attached to her face at this point as she now stared at them.  


Wulfrik resisted the urge to snort out a laugh. Not quite what he had been expecting.  


She hesitated a moment before taking the armful of bloody rags.  


The old man turned to a youth and said something to him in their tongue. The kid stared in awe and fear at the elder then nodded. He seemed to have that effect on people. He turned back to the party and said, “The boy will take you to the shelter. Stay there until I come for you.”  


Everyone but Wulfrik and Hep gave him a little bow before following the youth.

The child said nothing but kept looking back at them nervously as they passed through the collection of tents. The adults weren't doing much different, staring at them as they passed. Wulfrik was starting to get annoyed.  


“They're so scared of us,” Senki whispered.  


“Between our slaver and Wulfrik I do- Ack!” Heps comment was interrupted as as M'rut whirled around and grabbed him by his collar.  


“I AM NOT A SLAVER ANYMORE!!” he shouted in his face.  


Wulfrik was about to intervene when his brain caught up with what was said. The lizard wasn't a slaver? It – he was furious at the accusation? Wulfrik's eyes narrowed. 

The lizard bared his fangs at Hep but didn't do anything else.  


Hep held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Listen man, I made an assumption. Sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain, ya know?”  


The trandoshan paused and looked at them all. Senki had recoiled like a physical blow had hit her, Lars and Teth had done a stutter step backwards at the motion and the twi'leks had outright fled. Wulfrik supposed he didn't look comforting either. He had been about to leap into action when M'rut had stopped. 

He dropped Hep and looked downcast. In a very small voice from what he had come to expect out of the lizard he said “I can't do that to anyone ever again.” He sounded so small. How old was this lizard?  


“So you d- Aah!” Hep had been interrupted again, but this time by Senki punching his knee and glaring up at him. He pointed at his mouth and made a running motion with his hand. 

She continued to glare. 

He shrugged and raised his hands in surrender.  


Teth walked up to the big trandoshan and put a hand on his shoulder. “With our help you won't have to.”  


The lizard looked up at him and gave a faint smile.  


Wulfrik was pretty sure that the jedi didn't understand the reasons behind what M'rut had done. He very much doubted that anyone had threatened the lizard to get him to participate. Still it was more than he had expected. He supposed that not ALL trandoshans had to be complete scum. Perhaps his luck was improving. 

The child poked his head from around the wall of a tent. Other villagers were emerging as well. They seemed surprised that they were still there. Or maybe that they were alive. The child nervously gestured for them to follow.

The kid led them to a small cave in the wall of the … canyon? Wulfrik wasn't sure what to call it since they were in an open topped cave. It would still be cave … probably … maybe. It didn't really matter. Inside there was a bank of computer monitors on a cart with a handful of folding chairs scattered around it. A pair of twi'leks with rifles waited anxiously by the entrance.  


“It seems like we aren't free to go.” Lars said disapprovingly.  


“Maybe they're here for our protection?” ventured Senki.  


“They reek of fear,” said M'rut.  


The guards paled at the sound of his voice.  


“Now, saying stuff like that makes you sound like a murderer,” Hep blithely replied.  


There were dozens of video feeds of the many entrances to the the complex and important centers. Wulfrik was pretty sure that he saw the medical center. He could see the tunnel they had emerged from too. It would seem that this simple village had more going on under the surface. Most of the video feeds didn't seem to be attached to any walls though.  


“These are camera drones aren't they?” said Lars with a hint of wonder in his voice. He turned to look at their guards who looked uncomprehendingly at them for a moment before walking over and fiddling with the controls. The screen shifted to display only one of the screens. On it was a group of six trandoshans.  


There was a collective intake of breath from the group.  


The guard grunted and hit another key before shuffling back to the entrance.  


They wore tan jumpsuits with black vests. Their scales were various shades of muddy green and tan. Their easy posture and calculating eyes spoke of veteran hunters. It seemed their trandoshan had been right.  


“Clan Zissk,” growled M'rut.  


“Who?”asked Wulfrik.  


“Slavers. Opportunistic scum without a shred of honor. They're also rivals to my clan,” he scratched his chin. “I had heard that they set up their fleet near this system, but why?”  


“If they're slavers, then why are they chasing us?” asked Teth  


“They're opportunists. They could be seeking to reclaim us for the bounty. It's also possible that we might have led them straight to this village,” the thought seemed to disquiet him.  


“If they're stupid enough to attack, we'll take them down.” Wulfrik said, slapping M'rut on the back. Now he was trying to comfort a trandoshan. His clan mates must be cursing him from the afterlife. He shook his head. 

A voice could be heard from the monitor screen. “Should we make some sport of these weaklings?” A burnt orange trandoshan crouching by the rocks was speaking. He sounded as though he enjoyed the thought very much.  


_“No. We don't want him to escape in the chaos,”_ said a mossy green one.  


The way the others moved around him Wulfrik was certain that one was their leader. The orange one growled and moved to flank him. These were just like he had expected meeting trandoshans again. Cruel, evil, worthy of extermination. His blood boiled. He looked at M'rut. The differences were stark.  


“Who is this “him” they speak of?” asked Lars.  


“My guess would be the jedi,” Wulfrik declared, still looking at M'rut.  


“This doesn't make sense. Unless they were on standby before we crashed how do they know who was a prisoner?” the trandoshan sounded unduly troubled by this.  


“Don't worry about it, corpses can't cause much trouble, let's go introduce ourselves,” Wulfrik slapped his back again. That'd be the best way to solve this. Catharsis by proxy and they can stop the monsters from threatening the village. Everyone wins. Except those Zisk guys, and that suited him just fine.  


M'rut was at his back, “We'll need to be careful. These are experienced killers. They'll be expecting an ambush.” It was good to -  


“What are you two thinking?!” Senki shouted as much as she could.  


They both turned to face her.  


"You are both injured and you're going to fight a team of dangerous killers?”  


When she said it like that …  


“No. You will wait to see if the elders plan works.”  


It felt like he was being yelled at by his nan.  


“Fine,” M'rut grumbled. She nodded but he let out a predatory growl, “But if they attack we are getting involved.” 

She paused and then nodded. 

When they turned back to the screen the trandoshans had made their way into the camp. They heard the echoes of gunfire as the lizards fired into the air. Screams reached them soon after. They all tensed, even the guards.  


The shots didn't sound like the blasters from before. Wulfrik looked questioningly at M'rut.  


“ACP repeaters. Function much like blasters but use the gas to propel tiny slivers of metal.”  


Huh. That sounded somewhat terrifying. The elder was approaching the trandoshans which forestalled his follow up questions.  


_“What can I do for you young man?”_  


_“We know that a wounded trandoshan came through here not long ago. Where is he?”_  


A wounded tran- They were after M'rut? All of them turned to look at him.  


“Why would they be after me? I was banished.”  


_“He's about this tall, has black scales, and a scar running down his left eye. You couldn't have missed him with how much he was bleeding.”_  


“That certainly sounds like you,” Hep said.  


“But I'm not valuable anymore. Without a clan ...” he trailed off at the thought.  


_“We recently healed one such as you described. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.”_  


“Not likely,” muttered M'rut.  


“So why else would they be after you?” Wulfrik asked. This was the last straw. The gods were definitely playing a grand joke at his expense.  


“Perhaps they wish to recruit me?” he ventured. He didn't believe it either.  


_“[I can't believe he thinks we're from the same clan. Aliens are so stupid,]”_ the orange one was hissing and growling something but Wulfrik had no idea what was being said.  


M'rut growled and spat. “Racist pig.” he said.  


“Is it possible that you weren't banished?” Teth asked.  


The trandoshans made it to the medical tent to find the ripped and bloody bandages that M'rut had given to the elder. The hunters spat and growled as they began to sniff around.  


_“I'm sure he just went for some air. After all, why would he run?”_  


“If I'm not banished then …” A light lit behind his eyes that hadn't been there before. “I have a place again.” He looked at them all. “Every trandoshan we meet from now on will be after me.”  


_“Where did he go?!”_ shouted the leader.  


“Wait, what!? What did you even do?” Hep spluttered.  


_“I'm certain that I don't know. We could help you to find your -”_ The leader turned and growled in frustration.  


_“[Boshaz isn't going to be happy,]”_ said the orange one. The leader raised his fist at him and he cowered.  


_“[Spread out and find him!]”_ he roared. The other trsandoshans scrambled to obey. 

If Wulfrik had been paying attention to the screen at the time he would have seen the elder give a devilish smile and start to walk away.

While this was happening M'rut had been explaining that he was the equivalent of a prince among his clan. The oldest and most powerful one by his description. The Zissk and other lesser clans would wish to show how weak his clan was by killing or turning him. It all sounded like a bunch of politics to him.  


“So if we get you back to your “black scale clan” there'd be a big reward for us?” asked the ever entrepreneurial Hep.  


“No. I'm a danger to the clan's prestige. I'll either be killed or thrown in a hole to keep me out of the public eye if I return to them.”  


“So either death and torture or death and torture?” Asked Senki.  


“There is another way. If I can kill the one who ordered my disgrace I will get my points back and receive the hero's welcome Hep described.”  


“Points?” Hep asked  


Brushing past Hep's inquiry, Wulfrik wanted to know the real question. “So who do we have to kill?” He could get behind the idea of some honor killings.  


M'rut looked uncomfortable for a moment before answering. “Either my father who captured me.” That got their attention.  


“Your father?” Senki said, horrified.  


“Or the imperial general that ordered it.”  


Hep let out a long whistle. “You don't do easy, do you big guy?”  


M'rut shrugged and looked at them. “Will you help me?”  


There was a loaded silence as they processed this new information. Seconds passed. Banished from his kin, on an impossible quest for honor and revenge? That rang true to his own quest.  


Wulfrik stood up. “I, Wulfrik von Ulfricson, first among equals, and last son of Wiek, do swear to aide your cause.” He thought that Freyla would approve.  


M'rut bowed to him.  


“That's great and all but -” Hep started.  


“I'm in too,” said Senki standing.  


“Well, I -”  


“So long as it doesn't force me to disobey the code, I will help you.” said Teth standing as well.  


“Hold on -”  


“You seem like a good guy with a noble cause. I'm in.” came Lars putting his hand out. The others joined hands and after a moment's hesitation, so did M'rut.  


Hep looked at them all and stood up. “You're crazy, and I hate all of you ...” They all looked at him. He sighed. “But I'm in,” and put his hand in the pile as well. 

From behind them came the elder's voice, “I think it's time I took you to meet the rebels.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as hard as it was to write, I'm still enjoying writing it. Enjoyable character interactions, we got to see more of Wufrik and Teth's past. Hep is just fun to write for. So irreverent and unrepentantly selfish. There's more to him, but we'll see that later. Should I stick with this style or the old one? It's more work, but I think it reads better. (nevermind, all the tabs disappeared)  
> Well, I hope that you enjoyed it and will come back around for the next one!  
> Cheers!


	12. Odd Company Pt4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our band of misfits are brought to the rebel base where they get to know each other better and find out that Teth is a hero to these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd tag Crazy_Rabid_Squirrel since we've been editing each other's works for the last few chapters. (No tagging!? Boo!) [Still leaving this here though *Raspberry*] Hi Squirrel!

5 minutes later, Ryloth tunnels

“So how long until those hunters realize they were tricked?” Hep asked as they walked down yet another tunnel that looked like all the other pock marked tributaries they had been following.  


“With clan Zissk? Weeks.” M'rut gave a wicked smile. Hep only flinched slightly. Maybe he was getting better at this?  


“Ha! Good old fashioned rivalries? Didn't think your people left enough survivors to have those.”  


That stung a little but he could understand it. “The larger clans have numbers in the millions. Last census I saw had the black scale clan at 14 million scattered across the galaxy.”  


Hep stared at him. “What? You mean there are trandoshan bureaucrats? Like who file taxes and stuff?”  


He grinned. “The clans don't, but the adjudicators have records back to before the republic was founded.”  


“Now I know you're pulling my leg! No one has records that far back!”  


He didn't know what metaphorically dislocating his appendage meant, but he decided it was best to ignore the alien idiom.”It's true! Dosha has only been conquered once. And that was almost 7,000 years ago.”  


Hep shook his head. “That's impossible. Your people are warriors. You're telling me that in all that time no one has burned down a library?”  


“The adjudicators aren't a part of any clan. They've never been involved in a clan war.”  


“Okay, but who or what are these adjudicators?”  


“Some clans call them shamans, but adjudicators are priests of the Scorekeeper. They catalog every event of every trandoshans' life. In theory.”  


“... That's insane.”  


“It doesn't actually work like that. Not every event is reported, but all of their accomplishments are.”  


“Still … Wait, aren't there other religions that would want to, you know? Remove them?”  


“Not since Tr'lock the chain breaker united the clans against the invaders and drove them off of Dosha.”  


“So this guy is like a big deal for you?”  


“He is the founder of our religion. Few outside the ruling councils and the adjudicators care about him however. Most are only interested in their own points”  


“Now that's not the first time that you've mentioned points. What are they?”  


M'rut hmmed. How to explain this to an alien? “Every action that we do has a corresponding value associated with it. How many you have determines if you go to paradise or are banished to the pit when you die.”  


“So, like you're playing a video game, but it's real life?”  


… “What's a video game? Is it like a vid?”  


Hep looked at him sideways. “I guess it's not surprising you don't have games, what do trandoshans do for fun then?”  


“There was racketball, catch, and the training simulators. Also the arena. I couldn't tell you about what they do on Dosha though.”  


“Wait, I thought you were from there?”  


“I was born on Dosha but once I turned six I was raised on the 3rd fleet.”  


“Your people have fleets? What sort of fighters do you have? ”  


“Oh, they are heavily armed and armored. Ideal for the close range firefights we enjoy.”  


“So not really maneuverable eh?”  


“No, more like a battering ram with cannons.”  


“Alright, I'll probably just take the credits then.”  


“There is a long way before we can claim any rewards Hep.”  


Hep waved him off, “I know, but I like to be prepared. Know what I can get.” He rubbed his fingers together.  
M'rut wasn't sure what the gesture meant but nodded anyways.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While Hep and M'rut became more familiar, the elder and Senki lead the way at the front of the group. Senki could not quite believe she would be meeting members of the rebel alliance! It was just so exciting! It was like being in one of her mother's stories! They would help the oppressed locals and – oh she had to ask! “Sir! How will we be helping the rebels!?” She knew she was radiating her excitement, but she just didn't care. There weren't any other polis massans here to be offended anyways. The others wouldn't notice.  


The elder grinned down at her as he hobbled along. “I can't rightly say little one. You'll just have to ask them when we get there.”  


“Oh. But what is it they've been doing? Are they going to destroy the main imperial base? Oh! Is that why they need Teth? To rally people to the cause?”  


The old twi'lek's grin grew. “Your excitement is infectious little one. But I truly don't know. I was only aware that we were expecting a jedi to crash on this side of the planet, nothing more.”  


Oh. Whoops. Maybe they would notice. She did her best to rain in her emotions. How embarrassing. She'd have to watch herself. But she was finally meeting others like her mother. She wondered if they had any starships. They must have if they were the ones who rescued them. Which brought up another question. “So you are a part of the same cell that attacked the prison ship?”  


He chuckled, “Oh no. I am too old to do much resisting.”  


“Master Yoda fought in the clone wars. I'm sure you're resisting in your own way.” came the comment of Lars.  


Senki knew he just wanted to help, but she couldn't help but be annoyed at him sticking his proverbial oar in.  


“Ha! Perhaps. I just help whenever I can. Like now! I'm taking you to the local base and sending those trandoshans in circles.” He grinned again.  


“Do you work with the rebels often?”Senki asked. She wanted to know more.  


“I help out where I can.” The old twi'lek's smile didn't fade. “Mostly I do things like this. I take agents through the tunnels, send their hunters down the wrong paths and provide information to their teams.”  


“So you're a spy of sorts?” said Lars.  


Senki looked up at him. He had a rather striking nose. More pointed than the other humanoids. She occasionally imagined having a mouth or a nose. She had no idea what things smelled like. She hadn't felt comfortable enough to ask any alien yet. It seemed like such a personal thing to ask. Their mouths were such a basic method of expression. It was a kind of a shock her first time out among other species. NONE of them possessed the telepathic or emphatic abilities of the polis massans. She did apparently share one thing in common with them though. Vocal cords. She had always been different from the rest of her people because of them. She had thought she'd fit in better with others with vocal cords. She had been mistaken. Whether it was her voice or her lack of a face she didn't fit in anywhere. Then her mother had told her stories about her time with the rebel alliance. She had been accepted, productive, making a difference in the galaxy. And now she was going to meet them! Make her own mark. She hoped her mother would be proud of her. 

A few moments passed. She was still lost in thought when they turned the corner. She hadn't been paying attention to the conversation between the elder and Lars but noticed when it ended.  


“Here we are.” he said and gestured at the small reinforced door before them. He walked forwards and entered a code into the keypad.  


A deep and garbled voice emitted from the interface, “Who knocks on the cusp of destiny?”  


“One who has seen the light as he waits in the shadows.” replied their guide.  


Whoa. Secret pass codes? This read more like a saturday morning cartoon, but it was so cool!  


“Where'd they pick up these lines? A fortune cookie?” came Hep's snark.  


Senki glared at him.  


“It sounds like a proverb or a riddle,” said M'rut.  


Hep looked at him and shook his head. “That's kind of the point big guy.”  


“Ah. I see.” He very clearly didn't see.  


“Don't worry.” Hep slapped his shoulder. “Just let me do the talking in there.”  


“Maybe you should let me negotiate,” said Wulfrik cracking his knuckles.  


“Or maybe you should let our guide do the talking?” Teth sounded as though he had quite enough of the banter and the day in general.  


Senki realized that she hadn't been checking on the others moods while they had been walking. She had understandably been distracted, but that was no excuse. Her mother had always said that your abilities don't mean anything if you don't think to use them. She missed her. Dad too, but he was back on Polis Massa. Mom was … 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The door opened revealing a barrel chested twi'lek with vibrant pink skin and only one lekku. The other was a nub ending in scar tissue. Similarly what he could see of his face was scarred. The rest of his body was covered in a plain tan military fatigues and a webbing for ammo and equipment. His boots like much of his equipment was was as battered as he was. Fresh supplies these were not. M'rut grimaced.  


“Welcome back Bes'zejun!” He held out his arms for a hug and lifted the old man off of the ground. He then seemed to notice the rest of them.  


M'rut was not impressed. If they had followed the old man then they would have killed him by now. These rebels were sloppy. Perhaps there were other security features that he could not see? He looked around. The walls were cold and he didn't see the tell tale heat of electricity, but these things could be hidden. Given the other resources on display –  


The pink twi'lek sized up he and Wulfrik, his serious face turned into a massive grin. “Any friend of the jedi is a friend of mine!” He let the elder go and embraced he and Wulfrik's midsections.  


M'rut looked at Wulfrik who rolled his eyes. He and Teth smelled annoyed. Hep was uncomfortable. Lars and the old man were enjoying the exchange. Senki … he actually had a clear scent from her despite the others. She was excited. It practically exuded from her. She was staring at the muscular twi'lek … was she attracted to him? He wasn't familiar with her species' mating habits. It was possible, but seemed out of character.  


“Now,” he turned to Lars and Teth. “Which one of you is the jedi?”His grin spread as he rested his hands on his hips.  


Teth raised his hand. “I'm not a knight but I was a padawan.” He didn't say it, but his scent did. He didn't want this responsibility.  


This revelation did not hinder the burly twi'lek's enthusiasm at all. “A jedi is still a jedi!” He wrapped his arm around Teth's neck. “We'll have the empire on the ropes in no time!” This one was even more excited than Senki was. He gestured at the imaginary scene and seemed to picture it vividly.  


“Go easy on the boy, Han. They ran into lyleks on their way in,” The elder, apparently named Bes'zejun, said with an air of fatherly reprimand.  


Han laughed and started to drag Teth towards the door. “Don't worry old man! I'll make sure these new fish make it through if I have to drag them out myself!” By his scent he meant every word of it.  


As his life debtee (ghrakhowsk in his native tongue) was dragged through the door he snorted and looked at Wulfrik who shook his head. The thought of needing these rebels to save them? Ridiculous. Lars thanked Bes'zejun and the rest of them gave thanks in their own ways. It was time to see what these rebels were about.

The floors were flat and actually felt like they had been carved to resemble what someone had imagined a military facility to look like. It was … characterful. The rough stone tiling led into exposed rusting pipes on the walls. M'rut wasn't sure how they had done it but he felt and smelled the air being circulated. He wasn't much of a miner like many on Dosha were, but he saw small vent holes that he was sure the air was coming from. “Probably works like a starship,” he mused. There was a smattering of twi'leks who generally gaped at the party. Their “guide”, Han, was the tallest of the bunch and among them was likely quite imposing. He did not come up to M'rut's chin or Wulfrik's nose. Han was busy showing Teth to the awe struck rebels. It didn't take his nose to tell him that Teth would have liked to be anywhere else. Although considering the fawning crowd seemed to be blissfully unaware of his discomfort, M'rut considered that perhaps it was simply hard to tell.  


“Reasonably defensible,” commented Wulfrik. He gestured at the cavities they passed that held the piping. There seemed to be enough room for a single person to hide on each end of them. “They wouldn't last against a serious attack, but it would slow an assault down.  


Wulfrik was right. He seemed to be a veteran warrior, which brought up another question, “How many firefights have you been in Wulfrik?”  


He chuckled ruefully. “More than I'd like.” He paused to think before saying, “A few thousand, but less than 5 though.”  


“That's still an impressive count.” M'rut looked at him approvingly. “You'd be a veteran hunter in my clan.” D'hirt and Isskk had more battles but they were approaching their chance to join the elders. Hmm... He wondered if that made Wulfrik the eldest among his new pack. “His new pack.” ugh. That still felt wrong. Trandoshans didn't mix with outsiders. Declaring them to be his pack was unprecedented except among exiles. He couldn't deny that what had happened was a pack bonding ceremony though. They weren't a bad pack but …  


“I'm a veteran by any cultures' standards, not just yours,” bit back Wulfrik. He turned to look at him. “Besides, how many battles have you been in?”  


M'rut didn't pause before answering, “23 hunt contracts with 64 individual fights within them.”  


Wulfrik stared at him.  


Senki looked up. “Is everything all right?”  


“You just knew that off hand?” Lars said, smelling disturbed. M'rut turned to see him giving a concerned look.  


“Sounds a little obsessive to me.” commented Hep dryly.  


M'rut felt self conscious. He knew other cultures didn't value the hunt or battles as much as trandoshans, but surely they must have something similar? “The black scale clan takes its contracts very seriously. They're related to our points.”  


“Man, I can't get over how the race of murder lizards has a bean counter for a god,” muttered Hep wryly.  


“Wait, what!?” Wulfrik sounded very confused.  


M'rut shook his head gravely. “I wouldn't think a risk taker would be foolish enough to mock the goddess of chance.”  


“What are you two -”  


“Wait. So she's the god of chance and whether you go to hell or not?” Hep seemed to be still wrapping his head around this.  


“She can alter the fates. Twist things in your favor and keeps track of all things. To insult her would be unwise.”  


Hep threw his hands up. “Then I must have pissed her off already because I can't remember the last time something has gone my way.”  


“You escaped an imperial jail,” Lars said helpfully.  


“You are now accompanied by two of the most deadly fighters in the system,“ said M'rut.  


“And you're on your way to getting off this planet,” added Senki.  


“So you're all taking his religion seriously?” Wulfrik shook his head. “Do none of you respect your own traditions?”  


Lars' face grew hard, “We can still respect our beliefs and his Wulfrik. They're not mutually exclusive.” An unexpectedly harsh statement from the slicer. … Hmmm.  


“At this point I'm not ruling anything out man,” said Hep with a shrug.  


As Wulfrik processed that, M'rut felt that they were ignoring the more pressing concern. The Scorekeeper would sort everything out with or without them. “The real issue we should be focusing on are these rebels.”  


Senki piped back in, “Oh, absolutely! I wonder what they need our help with!” She practically vibrated with energy. Despite the innumerable smells he could still taste her excitement. “Do you think we'll help to liberate this planet? Or to - “  


“I'm more worried they're using us,” M'rut said, leaning in. They all paused.  


Senki visibly deflated. “Wh- what?”  


“Did you smell something?” asked Wulfrik, suddenly back onboard.  


“No, but look around.” There were almost a hundred twi'leks crowding around Teth and Han with dozens of side corridors branching from the main hallway they had been walking down. Most had a trickle of rebels coming in. “Does this look like a small operation? There were 11 rebels assaulting our ship, what do you think they're doing with this many?”  


“You think we're the muscle on some big operation?” asked Hep.  


“I'd say an assault on a major installation. Probably by ground with these numbers.” Wulfrik said, stroking his beard braids thoughtfully.  


“I didn't think he was deceiving us ...” started Lars.  


“It's true! He meant everything he said to us!” Senki burst in.  


“That doesn't mean he is telling us everything either,” Lars finished.  


“Why would he go to the trouble of freeing us if he was going to get us killed?” replied Senki.  


“Why does he need Teth though?” M'rut asked.  


“Not for his fighting skills, that's for sure.” Wulfrik groused.  


That wasn't fair, M'rut felt the need to defend his ghrakhowsk. “He's not a bad fighter,”  


“He's not very good either.” he countered.  


“Perhaps they think his presence will rally more to their cause?” Lars shrugged. “Jedi represented peace and stability for much of the galaxy.”  


Both Wulfrik and M'rut snorted. Jedi … M'rut shook his head. They certainly hadn't helped his people. More than enough massacres to point to that.  


“Didn't seem to help the galaxy much when the empire took over.” Wulfrik deadpanned.  


“They were betrayed! The clones struck without warning! They ...” He trailed off as Han approached them without Teth.  


“I'm sure you are all tired after your harrowing journey, there are beds and food available for you all.” Han seemed … upbeat and cheerful.  


His scent didn't contradict this, but M'rut didn't trust it all the same. “Where is Teth?”  


“He's getting fed in the mess hall, I can lead you there if you'd like.”  


Food was the best way to heal, it sounded like a good idea. “Very well, lead on.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The mess hall carried on the stone slab and rusted piping aesthetic from earlier but now there were rough hewn tables and benches scattered throughout the large room. A long bar covered in bowls of some sort of food ran along one side of the room where it connected presumably with a kitchen. There were twi'leks clustered around the tables with a surly looking woman watching the bar. They were all so excited. Teth was really bringing them hope! Even the grumpy woman managing the food was happy but annoyed that she couldn't be over by the jedi. He was sitting in the middle of the mass of twi'leks, answering questions as best he could. He was radiating how overwhelmed he felt. She was surprised that his fans weren't picking up on it. She guessed that aliens really didn't have ANY empathic abilities.  


M'rut growled.  


Or at least these twi'leks didn't. She looked up at him. Outrage. Protect. Huh. He was staring at Teth and moved forwards like a predator.  


Wulfrik put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Get some food.” He gestured with his head at the bar. “I think your jedi will survive the 30 seconds it takes for you to grab a bowl.”  


Was he feeling … protective of M'rut? What did she miss? She needed to pay more attention. “Too fixated,” that's what her father would always say. She wondered how he was doing.  


M'rut looked at him. Respect. Did the battles matter that much to him? Was it the oath? He nodded to Wulfrik and stalked over to the lunch lady.  


“That goes for the rest of you too. We'll need our energy no matter how tomorrow goes,” Wulfrik commanded the rest of the party. He was anxious. Did he really think the rebels would betray them? The very thought was ridiculous! … Food would be good though.  


“You don't have to tell me twice!” came Hep's enthusiastic reply as he chased after M'rut.  


“I could do with some nourishment,” Lars agreed  


Wulfrik looked down at Senki.  


She nodded her head enthusiastically and gave a thumbs up.  


Wulfrik harumphed and went to the bar.  


As much as food sounded good, she would rather get a chance to talk to some of the rebels. To be welcomed without her race or voice coming into it... Sigh She lingered at the back of the party, waiting for an opportunity to talk to one of the rebels.  


M'rut grabbed two bowls and made his way to Teth's table. The twi'leks weren't happy to be disturbed from their questions but Teth was ecstatic (for him) to be rescued. She even thought she saw some of it on his face. M'rut placed his bowls on the table. The questions died down as angry or confused looks were directed at him. He looked very … regal, as he turned to address the crowd. “While the master jedi would love to answer more of your questions, he must rest and meditate on his recent imprisonment and what the force requires him to do.” The crowd began bobbing their heads in agreement, muttering apologies as they began to scatter. “He thanks you for your understanding and will be glad to help you all after he has recuperated.”  


Teth looked at him accusingly.

“Who knew the lizard had it in him to work a crowd?” Wulfrik mused as he took a bite of the stew. He paused to contemplate the flavor before shrugging and continuing to eat.  


“Well, table's free now,” Hep said and swooped in to grab a seat. Lars and Wulfrik joined him.  


Senki instead went to the woman guarding the food bowls. “May I have one?” she asked.  


The twi'lek looked down at her and shoved her a bowl with a grunt before going back to watching her friends. Maybe she just was a surly individual? Senki meekly took the bowl. Perhaps she should speak to someone else. Yes! The lunch lady was just having a bad day. She'll ask someone else. She brought her bowl over to a table in the corner of the room where the rebels were settling back in from M'rut's dismissal.  


“ Excuse me, may I join you?”she asked.  


There were 4 of them at the table, a green male with no chin, a red one with weather beaten skin, a lavender woman wearing a visor staring at a datapad, and an orange man with a scar that caused a perpetual grimace. The red one joined grimace's perpetual look, visor girl felt annoyed, and no chin's face lit up. “Hey, you're with the jedi! Sure, you can sit with us.” Visor glowered at him. The rest of their energies became more agreeable.  


Oh good! She had been worried that they would be as bad as the lunch lady. “Thank you. I've heard so much about the rebellion!”  


Grimace shrugged, “That makes us sound like a more united effort than we are.”  


“We're the free Ryloth movement, not a part of some grand rebellion,” added visor haughtily.  


“Oh, the last time we talked with another group was that bunch holed up on Tatooine!” back came no chin's enthusiasm.  


Red hit him. ”Don't tell an outsider about that! It could be a spy.”  


“Oh, I'm not a spy. My mother joined the rebellion in fact.” Maybe they would trust her more if they knew more about her?  


“Oh, that's just precious,” cooed visor girl. Senki had difficulty reading the emotion behind that one. It didn't make her feel good though.  


“Following in mom's footsteps?” said grimace. He nodded his head. “It's good to honor your family.” He returned to contemplatively stirring his stew.  


As she was about to respond, no chin interrupted her. “So, tell us about the jedi!” The others save grimace nodded.  


She supposed she could tell them. “His name is Teth. We only started traveling together a few days ago.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  


No chin nodded enthusiastically for her to continue. The others were paying more attention too.  


Oh, what's the harm? “He is a kind soul who wants to help others. He has trouble expressing himself,” she began to gesticulate with her hands. “He says that it's because he's a chiss – “  


“Have you seen him do any force magic?” interrupted no chin again.  


“Well, I once saw him carry a pile of blood worms to heal M'rut.” She gestured at the trandoshan who was speaking animatedly to the others with his back to them.  


“So no crushing squads of stormtroopers?” added leather skin.  


“No flying?” asked grimace.  


The others stared at him.  


He shrugged, “It'd be cool.”  


Senki shook her head. “I've only seen him use the force once. He's mostly used his lightsaber.”  


That got their attention. “So he like was chopping people up!? Swoosh, Vmmm style?” said no chin.  


“Oh, no. He did best a … ghutkurr?” She thought that was what M'rut had called it. “It – “  


“How bad was the imperial jail?” asked grimace.  


“It was horrible! They kept us in tiny cell and they almost beat Wulfri– “  


“Was the jedi with you in your cells?” asked the weathered twi'lek.  


Senki shrank down. This wasn't going at all like she had wanted.  


“Let the poor thing finish it's story.” tutted visor girl. She looked at Senki. “Go on dear.”  


Did she refer to her as an it? “I uh,” she rubbed her hands together nervously. “TheyalmostbeatWulfriktodeath.” she blurted out. Oh no. They were all staring at her. She had made everything worse. 

They looked at each other. Grimace was the first to push past the awkwardness. “So which one is Wulfrik?”  


She was grateful for the save. “He's the big human across from M'rut.” The man in question was looking at Hep who was face down on the table next to him.  


“Nice tattoos,” commented grimace, nodding appreciatively.  


“Is the jedi going to be helping us long?” asked leather skin.  


She looked directly at the older twi'lek. His face scrunched up when she did so. “I couldn't say, before a few hours ago we didn't know you were here.”  


“Hmmf,” He didn't feel happy about that.  


“So where were you headed before Bes'zejun found you?” asked visor girl.  


“We were headed for a city. We hoped to find transport off the planet.”  


No chin and visor girls began to whisper to each other as grimace asked, “What about after that?”  


To be honest she hadn't considered it. “I guess for now we'll help M'rut on his quest,” she said with a shrug.  


“The trandoshan?” yelped no chin. Visor and leather looked disgusted while grimace pursed what was left of his lips.  


“Why not?” Senki asked. They had mostly accepted her, what was wrong with M'rut?  


“It's a trandoshan,” explained visor girl.  


“They eat babies and torture you for fun before handing you to the imperials,” said no chin.  


“Or worse, the hutts.” finished grimace solemnly.  


“M'rut isn't like that though! He hasn't done anything to even suggest –“ Senki began objecting.  


“Then he's using you.” interrupted leather face.  


She was getting upset. Just when the conversation had started to recover this happened. She knew that she shouldn't be letting this get to her but this was unfair. “You don't understand. He's done nothing but –“  


“He's a trandoshan dear, they don't think like we do.” said visor girl.  


She … that wasn't …  


“You should be careful with the human too, they're nothing but trouble,” leather face said with a waggle of his finger.  


“The duros looks shifty … and unconscious.” added grimace.  


“Oh, duros are fine. Humans and trandoshans –“ visor girl started.  


“And hutts!” threw in no chin.  


“and hutts,” she continued with a nod, “have been nothing but trouble for the galactic community.” She shrugged in a what can you do gesture. “They just aren't built right.”  


Senki stood up. “Well I'm a telepath, so I know what people are thinking,” Not strictly true, but they didn't need to know that. “and between the two of you, the ones who don't think like good people are you!” Some of the nearby tables turned to look at them.  


Visor girl and no chin blinked at her, leather face scowled, and grimace cocked his head. 

Before they could say anything more Senki stormed off. How dare they! They were rebels! They were supposed to work together against the empire! This … she deflated. This wasn't how this was supposed to work. She slumped down at a deserted table. They were supposed to care about fighting the empire, not your race. Thinking about it … she now felt certain that they had been using her to get to know Teth. They didn't care about her, they just wanted … Her sadness began to bubble out. Oh, they weren't any different from the other aliens she had met smuggling! She hid her head in her arms and began to radiate her distress. She didn't know how long she stayed like that. Her crushed hopes her only company. She would never find her mother with these people. They weren't any different. *shudder* She didn't know where to search next. *shudder* She didn't – She felt an enormous hand gently rest on her back. She looked up to see who it was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

“While the master jedi would love to answer more of your questions, he must rest and meditate on his recent imprisonment and what the force requires him to do.” He turned back from the dispersing crowd to see Teth staring at him accusingly.  


“You realize they will take you up on that right?” Teth said. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. Well, that was a change. Despite the odor of so many close individuals he was pretty sure he got annoyed from his scent too.  


M'rut plopped his two bowls down across from Teth. “They wouldn't have accepted a no without a fight.” he explained.  


“Hmmm,” he replied, stirring his stew.  


M'rut sat down and examined his own food. The bowls were some type of bug shell and inside was what M'rut would describe as a thick meat broth. He wondered if the shell came from the same creature as the meat? He shrugged. Either way, convenient to have an edible bowl. He'd have to propose something like this to one of the cooks. Improve on the design.  


As M'rut reached for a bowl Teth said, “How did you know those things about the jedi?”  


The others were joining them now. “Yes, I thought there were no trandoshan jedi.” Lars sat next to him across from Hep who joined Wulfrik and Teth on the other side.  


“There aren't,” M'rut said. How to explain this to two jedi sympathizers? “It sounded like something that a jedi would do and these people would believe. To them you're some sort of messiah.” He finished by pointing his spoon at Teth.  


“A con job, *yawn* nice,” said Hep.  


“But how did you know about the force? And our meditation?” Teth would not let it go.  


*Sigh* Alright, here it comes. “Have you heard of the saying, “Know your enemy?””  


“The jedi are no ones enemy!” exclaimed Lars.  


“Tell that to the separatists,” replied Wulfrik.  


Lars stammered for a moment as Teth said, “So the jedi are your enemy?”  


Oops. That wasn't what he meant. “Ah, no. Not personally, but my people are hunters and mercenaries. We hunt things that the jedi don't agree with sometimes.”  


“Like children?” Teth said pointedly. The others were paying more attention now, even Hep.  


M'rut sighed. “Garnac was doing that illegally. If the jedi hadn't executed them all then the council would have done it themselves.”  


“Wait, so you guys actually eat babies?” Hep said horrified.  


M'rut rubbed the bridge of his snout. “No. Garnac and another elder had formed an inter-clan guild that purchased an island on Dosha's moon. They brought prey there to hunt”  


“Including jedi younglings until they took a padawan which spelled their doom.” Teth was downright icy.  


“They robbed our justice system of the chance to punish the perpetrators,” hissed M'rut.  


Teth leaned forward. “You can't tell me your council of elders didn't know he was doing this.”  


M'rut leaned back. Calm down. No need to get hostile. Honor demanded he acknowledge the point. No matter how damning. “They almost certainly did.”  


Teth's eyes widened.  


“Age carries a lot of weight among my people. One in thirty will likely make it to age forty. An eighth of that will reach sixty.” He sighed. “Council members look out for each other. Until they made a spectacle of themselves they would have been allowed to continue indefinitely.”  


The others looked unhappy with that. Well, they could join the club.  


Teth narrowed his eyes. “So you admit it?”  


M'rut rolled his eyes. “To what? Being as corrupt as the rest of the galaxy?”  


Wulfrik pursed his lips as Hep asked, “So does that mean that you hunted kids?”  


M'rut rubbed the bridge of his snout again. “No. Gormac was old enough to have officially retired. I couldn't get away with ignoring the council's decrees.” He grew somber and stared at his bowl as the memory of the incident that started this ran through his mind. “I would never hunt children in the first place.” He felt a hand on is shoulder.  


He looked to see Lars. “We know you wouldn't.”  


“Aye,” Wulfrik added.  


“Yeah! *Yawn* Fuck those guys!” Hep said drowsily as he rested his head in his arms.  


M'rut snorted. “He can sleep at the drop of a blaster.”  


Teth pursed his lips before saying, “I meant no offense to you personally, M'rut. I was merely upset by the incident.”  


M'rut nodded. “I agree with you though. Trandoshan society needs to change. It's the only way for us to advance as a species.”  


Lars and Teth looked at him curiously. Wulfrik seemed distracted.  


“Until the empire came we had been under the wookies' thumb. If –“  


“I thought that your people were enslaving the wookies?” Lars asked.  


A common stance held by the greater galactic community for the start of the conflict. Time to correct it. “We learned how to fly into space before the wookies. We had been negotiating with a fledgling republic to join when we discovered them.”  


“But the wookies are said to be gifted mechanics?” objected Teth.  


“They are. They still got their first hyperdrive from us.”  


“So your peoples were allies at one time?” asked Lars.  


M'rut snorted. Lars was too innocent. “No. Some fools crashed into a tree.”  


“Oh...” Lars sounded disappointed.  


“Of course humans had arrived and started enslaving them before we ever set foot on a branch.”  


They seemed troubled by that.  


“Once the wookies drove the slavers away the republic was only interested in them. Trade dried up on Dosha and instead of giving us a seat or splitting it, they give our spot on the senate to the wookies!” He threw his hands up in the air. It was ridiculous.  


“So your people resent that fact and that's why you hate each other?” asked Teth.  


That's why we hate them. It's also why most trandoshans live on fleets rather than Dosha..”  


“And they hate you for what your people did for revenge,” added Wulfrik.  


“Yes. My claws are not clean of those sins either.” He looked down at the appendages. “The empire stokes that hatred in us. We need to stop them.” He closed his hands into fists.  


“On that we agree.” Wulfric declared.  


“Yes, for galactic stability,” agreed Teth.  


“For a more harmonious galaxy,” said Lars  


“Yehh, fuux soze gies.” came from Hep's arms.

They all chuckled at that as a wave of wrongness washed over them. M'rut and Wulfrik looked at one another and reached for their weapons. He felt … sad, like a wet blanket had been dropped over him. Every patron seemed to be reacting to it. Admittedly in a less … aggressive way. Those who were just talking started to pack up and leave. Others hunkered down and hurried eating. What was causing this? He took in several deep tastes of the air.  
... There was … Distress …  
… Senki …  


She was in trouble! … But nothing smelled of conflict save he and Wulfrik. Certainly no blood, besides the kitchen, and that was too old. He followed the scent. It didn't take long to find Senki in a not dissimilar position to Hep. Her back was shuddering however and a strange sort of mewling noise was coming from her. He tentatively reached out for her and rested his hand on her tiny body.  


She looked up at him. “M'rut, I ...” she trailed off and another smaller wave hit him.  


The gesture was only customary among very close friends for trandoshans, but he knew it meant less to aliens. He thought it was what she needed though. He swept her up into a hug.  


“Urk!” she gasped, but he could smell her scent soften.  


“There wasn't anything in the kitchen or the hall,” came Wulfrik's voice. “Ah, you found her.”  


M'rut turned to face him. “I found the source of our disturbance,”  


Senki burrowed deeper into his arms.  


“What happened?” Asked Wulfrik.  


“Who did this?” growled M'rut. He set her down on top of the table. She was almost on par with his chest.  


She hugged herself and said, “I went to talk with the rebels … they weren't what I expected.”  


“What did they do?” asked Wulfrik.  


M'rut was busy looking for the perpetrators in the remaining crowd. He couldn't see anything pointing to the guilty party. He did see Lars and Teth trying to get Hep to stand up.  


“Y-you have to promise not to hurt them.” she said.  


M'rut grunted, still focusing on his hunt. There was a group of four twi'leks looking squirrely in a corner. More flushed than the others. They either had been drinking alcohol or ...  


“Fine, now tell us,” said Wulfrik testily.  


“They used me to get information on Teth and then they started to … say rude things. They weren't at all like in my mom's stories,” she finished by hugging herself.  


They noticed him staring and began to pack up.  


“Was it the ones you were talking to before?” asked Wulfrik.  


She nodded.  


Wulfrik turned to look directly at M'rut's new quarry.  


He growled. A twi'lek passing by his line of sight scrambled out of the way. The four of them began beating a hasty retreat.  


“You said you wouldn't!” Senki yelped. She leapt at his leg as though she could even slow him.  


He stopped the stride he had been about to take and marked each of their faces. One with a blaster scar on his face sort of waved at him … or perhaps Senki. Either way he seemed relatively unperturbed by the display.  


The others finally joined them. “What was the matter?” asked Lars.  


“These snake heads are assholes,” replied Wulfrik. “Now lets finish eating.”

The food was a little cold, but it reminded him of a Jeejub beetle, so it wasn't bad. CRUNCH More flavor-full though. He'd have liked some blood, but it was still good. CRUNCH.  


“Uh, you know that you're not supposed to eat the bowl right?” asked Hep in horrified fascination.  


… M'rut had not known that. “Then why is it in an edible container?” he asked not unreasonably.  


“That's because it's only edible to you,” explained Teth.  


Hmmm. Aliens were indeed strange. He shrugged and finished his first bowl. CRUNCH As he reached for his second bowl he saw Senki ladling stew onto her face membrane. … … Strange indeed.  


“Why in the name of the ancestors are you pouring food onto your face?” asked a repulsed Wulfrik.  


Senki looked at him, small bits of meat dribbling down her face. Strangely the sauce and the smaller bits of meat remained stationary. It was one of the more disgusting sights that M'rut had seen.  


“That's how we eat. Our face is a membrane through which we absorb nutrients. Our home planet had many insect and algae swarms that we used to subsist on.” She rubbed her hands together nervously as the disturbing display continued.  


“I don't think I'll eat with you from now on if that's okay?” Said Hep repressing a gag. He earned a slap from Wulfrik for his efforts. “What? I'm being honest.”  


“What did those rebels say to you Senki?” asked Lars.  


She made a haughty sniff, “They made it clear that aliens aren't welcome among them.” She looked at M'rut. “Especially some species.”  


“Not a surprising outlook. They told me that they've been fighting invaders for decades. I suspect it will be a hard sell on any non twi'leks,” Teth added.  


“That's no excuse for what they did to her,” growled M'rut.  


“I've been meaning to ask –“ Wulfrik began. 

That was when Han'soka arrived. He held a small holo projector and looked confused. “Where is everyone?” he asked. Most of the twi'leks had left. There was just the food guard and a couple in a corner sharing a seat.  


The party shrugged or otherwise gave non-committal answers.  


“Oh well, they know most of this anyways.” He placed the projector on the table and hit a button. On it appeared a mass cargo transport ship. Maybe 120 meters long and 60 meters across. “This is transport 12C. On it is somewhere around 10,000 twie'lek slaves.”  


Wulfrik and M'rut both sat up. The others straightened as well.  


“I thought that might get your attention.” Han pressed another button and the view switched to a canyon which held what appeared to be fortifications. “This is imperial base epsilon.” The view zoomed in and swept over an armored wall lined with blaster cannon turrets. “The defense perimeter is made up of a durasteel wall topped with cannons every 20 meters.” The view flew over a building to a courtyard where soldiers were marching in formation. “It's guarded by 250 imperial army troopers – “ They flew to a gated facility withing the walls where the distinctive forms of stormtroopers were on patrol. “ - and a garrison of 50 stormtroopers guarding the slaves themselves.” The view went back up to display the transport nestled in a loading apparatus. “This is where they are keeping the transport while they load it full of our people.” He leaned in towards them, “And in but a few weeks you all will help us steal it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished later than I would have liked. Oh well! The formatting from this website makes what should be a 6 minute process as I type these asides, take an hour and a half as I have to add all the indents back in manually. *angry writer noises* That's what I get for doing this new style. Reads easier though. Tried this tutorial online, but it didn't work. Bothersome, but I'll deal. Onto talking about the chapter!
> 
> It was nice to get back inside M'rut's head again. It's been a bit. The character interactions are fun, which is always a good thing. I had a bit of trouble writing the mean twi'leks scene. I knew the characters involved, but I haven't really written trauma before. Hopefully it works. Tried a new character split that hopefully makes it more clear. I feel like I should give Hep and Lars more development, but I also want to keep their pasts a mystery for now. Next chapter should be exciting BIG BATTLE! BIG BATTLE! BIG BATTLE!  
> As for what happened during the actual session, This was like 15 minutes. It WAS where the fun eating scene came from.


	13. Odd Company Pt5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M"rut and the team try to settle in with the Free Ryloth Movement as they prepare for their daring rescue mission. Unfortunately things do not go smoothly for our heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... this was supposed to be the big battle chapter. I had everything planned out. I knew what was up, then I decided to add in a time skip like when we entered Narshada. It was then that I realized that there was a lot of potential character development that we'd be missing out on. Thus this chapter was born. I'd like to say that the re-org caused the delay, but that's not true. I could have gotten it done in the 2 weeks I gave myself, I just had a great deal of trouble focusing on it. Whenever I sat down to work on it, anything else was so very interesting. What's weird is that I still enjoy writing, I just get massive A.D.D. with it. (not disrespecting people who actually have it, just a comparison)  
> Anyways, here it is. I hope you enjoy.

2 Days later, Free Ryloth Northern Continental Headquarters

The roll call alarm sounded and immediately roused M'rut. The strict scheduling reminded him of his adolescence on the fleet. Wake up calls, inspections - the only thing missing was D'hirt screaming insults at them. *Sigh* The fact that he was feeling nostalgic of that was sad. Most black scale clan didn't look back once they became an adult. Not that their pack leaders or ship masters couldn't institute similar policies. There was just more freedom as an adult even with such strictures. It still made him miss his people. The twi'leks had a certain perseverance of spirit that he liked, but they were no trandoshans. Beyond the angry looks and muttered insults the last few days, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. Everything was so delicate. Their feelings, their furnishings, their bodies. It was all rather exhausting. First he was “securing the perimeter,” which more accurately translated as digging false tunnels to lure away intruders. He had managed to convince the pack leader to install cameras from some broken drones at key points. Now he was assigned to group 3 who were supposed to “Help to relocate heavy ordinance” to the transport vehicles. He was being used for manual labor! He was a deadly warrior, a tactician, and a leader of warriors … … And he was moving boxes. 

He rolled off of the pile of rags that served as his bedding and began to prepare his kit. “We don't have any cots or sleeping bags in your size,” they had said. As though they couldn't make any. Hmff. He'd have to go and fetch a sewing kit. Make one himself. He had been roomed with Senki as “she was the smallest.” He was not enjoying these rebels. Perhaps he should go speak with their elder about reassignment. He would do that after his work today. After all, how hard was it to move crates? He'd be done in an hour. 

Senki stood from her cot. M'rut had been led to believe it was a bed for children. It bothered him but she seemed … more relaxed, after her break down in the mess hall. She had been helping out in the medical wing and seemed to be enjoying returning to her native profession. How he would like to do the same. He smelled her discomfort with the rebels though. He still felt protective of her but she had rejected his offers to remove the trouble makers. She had said that she didn't want to cause a scene. As though he couldn't be discreet! He knew how to dispose of bodies. He could even eat them if necessary. He shuddered. Even if it was acceptable among his people, he didn't like the idea. It had made him feel like a monster the one time he had tried it. He had been 9 back on Dosha where he and a few other hatchlings had found an alien murdered in the jungle. They had been hunting a Gnathgrg when they had stumbled across it. The others had challenged him to do it as the biggest. … He had steeled himself and done so to the cheers of his pack. It had felt like he was a villain from an old vid. Too real to BE real. The others' cheers had made it bearable. When they had returned home, he had told his mother proudly of what he had done. She had backhanded him. He had turned to see the sacred text being shaken in his face. “We are not animals!” The book tapped his snout. “We do not eat corpses! How are we supposed to interact with other species if they think we'll eat them!?” She had made him report his discovery to the hsskhor city security. It had not been a pleasant day for him. His fath - 

“Are you alright?”Senki interrupted his ramblings. 

“Huh?” He looked away from his kit at her. 

She was staring at him, likewise preparing her own equipment. “You were upset by ...” 

Huh. She had mentioned telepathy but besides interrupting the fight, this was the first she had used it to his knowledge. It seemed similar to scenting. 

She shuffled awkwardly and looked at her feet, “Something about eating people?” 

Oh. ...It seemed to give more information. He shook his head. Probably best to clear this up now. “I was thinking of the offer I made -” 

“I still don't want you hurting anyone!” she squeaked indignantly. 

“I won't,” he tried to soothe her. “I was merely thinking of theoretical methods of disposing of their bodies should it become necessary.” 

She crossed her arms. “Do aliens think about cannibalism and violence often?”The scorn was clear. 

He held up a claw, “First, it's not cannibalism. They're not trandoshans.” He held up his other digit, ”Second, yes. Most species aren't pacifists like yours.” 

“But eating people!?” Despite her generally muted scent, she smelled distressed. 

He sighed, aliens were so emotional. “It was entirely theoretical. I've only ever done it once.” There that should solve that. … She smelled … angry. What had he done now!? 

She spoke slowly trying to put as much menace in her words as her frame would allow. “Where? When? And why?” 

This was getting tiresome, but it clearly mattered to her … Fine then. “In a jungle just north west of Hsskhor city, when I was nine, and I was dared to by my pack at the time.” 

“You were nine?” she sounded horrified. 

“He was dead when we found him. We didn't kill him.” The idea of hatchlings killing an adult could be insulting. Even if aliens were so weak. 

She seemed to relax a little at that and turned away from him. She turned back around holding a datapad, “What did you do? Did you prepare it or eat it raw?” 

Not where he had expected this to go. He shrugged, “We found it and they said I had to do it to prove my might. So I just took a bite out of him.” 

She wrote something down and asked, “Did you get sick? What species was it?” 

Now she wanted to know more? They were expected at the auditorium soon. “No, I didn't and it was a Nikto, probably working for the Hutts.” 

She scribbled down more notes. 

He shook his head. “Can this wait until later? We should be getting to roll call.” 

“One last question.” She looked him dead in the eyes, “Would you do it again?” 

He cocked his head, “I'm not looking to do it, but if I needed to, then yes.” Aliens were so strange. 

She wrote a little more and then pulled her bag on. “Shall we go?” 

He nodded and pulled on his new vest. It was a little small, much like his shirt, but it would do. It wasn't as though it was too cold, even in these tunnels. They began to walk together down the halls. First she was angry, now accepting. Trandoshan women got mood swings when pregnant, could that be it? It seemed unlikely, she had claimed to be a smuggler before. He supposed - 

“So your 'pack' dared you to eat it? Why?” 

*sigh* “They challenged me to do it to increase the strength of the pack. By eating worthy foes you gain their power. I wouldn't think him a worthy foe, but we were nine.” Ugh, it was making him think of the seminary lessons from the adjudicators. 

She was, in the mean time, scribbling more notes. 

“I don't really think it works like that, but it's a commonly held belief among the more superstitious t'doshok.” 

She looked at him curiously, “T'doshok?” 

“It means a trandoshan in dosh.” 

She continued to cock her head. “Is dosh your people's language?” 

He was getting too comfortable if he was slipping into dosh. “Er, yes. Also you need to say the 'ah' more like an 'oh'.” He needed to stay vigilant, not give lessons. 

“I see. So is this pack of yours waiting for you when you return home?”she continued to scribble as she walked, instinctively weaving between legs. He suspected she had done this before. 

He snorted. “I certainly hope not.” He had been assigned to several packs since then anyways. 

She cocked her head again. 

“It has been some time since I was forced to leave my clan. It would reflect poorly on the new pack leader if he was just waiting for me. Pack alphas must lead. To do otherwise would promote disaster.” 

“So what happens when you return?” 

“That's a difficult one. Typically I would be assigned to a new pack or there would be a challenge. Sometimes both. If the alpha stepped aside when I return it would mark him as a coward, afraid to face me.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence as M'rut thought he detected some distress. There could be another possible reason. “It could also mean that they trusted me enough to want me to lead. Which it would be seen as is anyone's guess.” That seemed to reassure her, and she settled back into her normal pace again. 

The auditorium was filled with groups of twi'leks milling about their assigned groups. There were 8 groups in this room, the rest of the rebels were scattered between the other two halls. Senki joined the other medics in group 3. He went to group 8, but there was only 1 twi'lek standing there. Ocrucnodo. What was going on? He approached the green twi'lek in question. 

“Ah, you're here! It's just you, me and the truck today!” 

Wonderful. His “alpha” from yesterday was managing the blaster cannon delivery today. Cheery, upbeat and seemingly incapable of not talking. He didn't even have anyone to commiserate with. Not that the others had done anything so friendly with him, but still. 

“We're going to be heading out to the canyons in sector 14 where the smugglers will meet us!” Oh no. That was a 2 hour drive … alone … with HIM. *shudder* 

“Isn't it great!? I can tell you all about my guroot farm!” 

He knew he promised not to, but if he just killed him and dropped the body off in the canyons this would be so much more bearable. *sigh* He straightened and put on his political demeanor, ”That sounds lovely Ocru.” 

He looked taken aback, “I didn't realize that we were -” He paused and considered his words for a moment. 

Had he said something wrong? 

Seemingly coming to a decision Ocru said, “Of course M'rut! Let's get started! Those weapons aren't going to move themselves!” 

As they waited to be counted M'rut tried to think of what Ocru had meant. This was the only thing that had caused the fool's attitude to stumble. Nothing was fitting. It had to do with the name, that was all he had. He had smelled surprised, but what about? The commander for this section of the base acknowledged their presence and they made their way to the garage. Before he could start up, M'rut asked his question. “What did you mean that you didn't know that we were … what?” 

His scent spiked. “Uh, it's not important! Just culture stuff!” They walked into the garage where a flat bed truck was waiting for them. He activated the vehicle and said hurriedly, “I'm sure you'd rather hear all about farming in the jungle !” 

A blatant sidestep, but he let it go and settled in for mind numbing tedium. At least he had practice from his father. *sigh* 

The truck was truly ancient to not have any form of anti gravitic field. M'rut felt every bump and irregularity in the wide tunnel they were traveling through. According to Ocrucnodo these were originally carved by a now extinct species and then expanded on by his people. The ride went without a hitch up to the canyon where the smugglers were waiting for them. A pair of humans with a group of 4 in the back. They had a professional air about them that both reassured and disquieted M'rut. Smugglers and “professional” rarely went together in the same sentence. It rubbed him the wrong way. They had been initially upset about his presence but had backed down at Ocru's reassurances. 35 blaster cannons with accompanying tripod mounts and gas canisters. An impressive tally. M'rut was thankful that the 4 in the back were ordered to help him load the crates into the truck. They grumbled but did so. They smelled clean and irritated. Having just spent 2 hours in the truck with Ocru he could relate to that. 20 minutes to load the equipment and the credits were handed over. The smugglers were very polite as they parted ways. Ocru started to talk about jungle crops again and M”rut settled into his pattern of head bobbing and occasional vocalizations. After some time Ocru stopped talking. The silence caused him to turn his attention to the green twie'lek. He smelled nervous again and he was sweating. Was he ill? They were still a half hour to the garage. M'rut didn't know how to pilot this contraption. He supposed he could figure it out. He should - 

“So when you asked before about what I meant ...” He scratched the back of his head. “You used the familiar version of my name ...” He looked at M'rut, “In my tribe that would mean we're friends …” 

...Okaaayy? Why did that matter? 

“Everyone says that I'm … well … I'm loud and annoying.” He shrunk down, trying to avoid attention even as he looked at him. 

For his part, M'rut was confused. He was trying to hide in a small enclosed space and his scent said he was embarrassed. He was annoying, why was - 

“Even if I know you didn't mean it like that,” he smiled. “It was nice having someone call me friend.” 

Oh no. He had acquired a new stray. He looked and smelled so sad. He couldn't … This wasn't fair of the Scorekeeper! *Sigh* If he could sit through a 4 hour lecture on the galactic economy and its effects on slaving, he could do this. “Ocru,” he put his hand on his shoulder. “We are friends. Do not think otherwise.” 

He had the biggest grin on his face as he looked up at him. “You really mean it!?” 

He was already beginning to regret this, but he gave a reassuring squeeze . “Yes.” He moved his head to look back at the road. “Now please keep your eyes on the road.” 

“Right! Don't want to crash with the ordinance in the back.” 

The rest of the ride was fairly sedate. Ocru's excitement had not diminished, but he was now taking breaths between sentences. They talked a little about their cultures and the ressistance when they finally made it back to the garage. 

Ocru radioed that they were there and needed help getting all of it to the armory. M'rut began unloading the large metal crates as Ocru continued to chatter about his people. 

“We weren't alone in our suffering of course! The seperatists, then the empire, they all want the spices in our mines!” 

He was going to have to remind him they had a job to do. *sigh* as he turned from the crate in his arms he heard a group of twi'leks come from the corridor into the base. Huh, that was fast. They had called less than a minute ago. These twi'leks smelled pungently hostile, although he supposed many of the rebels had so far. Well, he could use the help. Time to remind Ocru. “Hey, why don't you help our new friends to unload these boxes?” 

“Oh! Right!” He heard jangling from the cabin. 

“Well if it isn't the dumb lizard. Banging rocks together are we?” the voice behind him sneered. 

Wonderful. M'rut set the box down on the hover pallet and turned to see the speaker. There were six of them, all twi'leks. Some held crowbars and others wielded wrenches. The speaker stood at their head looking cocky. This smelled like a challenge, which made no sense. Even if he somehow won, they weren't the same clan. Nothing would be gained. He turned and picked up another crate, “As you can see, these 'rocks' are ordinance.” He set it on the palette, finishing the set. “And if you're not here to help, then leave.” There, that should clear things up. He rolled his eyes, aliens. 

Their leader sneered, “Don't order me around reptile!” He brandished a spanner, “What are you really doing here!?” There was a chorus of agreement from his lackeys. 

They wanted the truth? “I'm here because my ghrakhowsk is here and no other reason.” There was also the part where he wasn't sure if the debt was owed to their organization and thus he _had_ to help them, but he didn't need to share that detail. 

“The hell's a ghraowsk?” one said in the back. 

“Don't try and trick us using alien words!” commanded the speaker. 

M'rut crossed his arms. “ A ghrakhowsk is the recipient of a life debt, now can I get back to work?” 

Ocru had gotten out of the truck by this point and was watching nervously by the cab. 

“I don't like your attitude lizard. Maybe we should teach you some manners?” He stepped forward in an attempt to intimidate him. 

Well, there was no word twisting, no twisted logic that could deny it. This was a dominance fight. Good, this punk needed a lesson. M'rut grinned and stepped forward, “Are you challenging me?” 

The twi'lek didn't back down and instead stared up at him defiantly. “And what if I am?” 

Points for bravery, but not smarts. M'rut grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him back first into the truck bed. There was an audible *crack* as he struck. The others were visibly shocked to see their champion felled so easily. He could understand that. Most bullies were overconfident. They should - 

One let out a roar and charged him, the others joining in soon after. The first one swung up with a wrench. It was a clumsy blow, easily dodged. 

M'rut sidestepped and backhanded the attacker into two of the others. *snap* He didn't get it. This was an attack. Was this their attempt to start a clan war? If so, why was Ocru shouting into the radio instead of helping? This was all very confusing. 

The remaining 2 went to flank him. It was a reasonably coordinated attack. The one on his left went high with a crowbar while the right hand swept at his knee with a wrench. 

M'rut moved into crowbar's attack and grabbed his arm. Wrench missed and he threw the crowbar wielder straight into him. 

They fell into a heap as the other 2 launched themselves at him. Big overhead swings. Sloppy. 

M'rut kicked one in the chest with a *crack* like old wood and took the crowbar on the shoulder to reach in and grab the other's neck. He gagged as M'rut lifted him up and slammed him into the stone floor. 

“Never mind on the security alert, command. We definitely need medical though,” came Ocru from behind him. He turned to see him wincing as he looked at the groaning twi'leks. 

He surveyed the damage. Only two of them were moving … Okay, he might have gone a little too hard on them. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Senki liked doctor Cin'gajug. She was a middle aged green twi'lek woman who was starting to get the care lines of age. She was responsible for the medical health of the rebels and had made a place for Senki among her staff. She had started her training in Ryloth's capital of Lessu before the occupation by the seperatists during the clone wars. Most of the others were trained by her and were generally friendly. With everyone preparing for the assault the medical bay was almost empty. There was only Senki, Dr. Cin, and her assistant Lom'gusey in the spartan room. Instead of the stone panels there was metal plating on the floor and the ever present rust was scrubbed off the surfaces. When Senki had asked about the tiles she was told that “The blood seeps into the stones so we put the panels in to keep it free of the stench.” She supposed that made sense over constantly scrubbing stone. Lom'gusey was filing medicine away while waiting for some herbs to boil down into something more usable. The doctor was - 

“So Senki, if you don't mind my asking, what made you choose to work with such an interesting group of people?” 

\- apparently wanting to talk. Senki was immediately wary. Doctor Cin had been nothing like the others who had been glaring and muttering at … well, mostly M'rut. Wulfrik had received some looks too, but they had stopped when he began behaving … well … like an imbecile. He hadn't seemed dim before so she assumed this was some sort of plan. What that plan entailed she had no idea. The doctor however hadn't said anything bad, yet. “We haven't really had a choice about it.” She rubbed her hands nervously, “We all escaped from imperial custody together and this is the first chance we've gotten where we … could, split up.” 

She gave her a maternal smile, “And what do you want to do?” 

That was a good question. She didn't sense malice from her, maybe … “I – I want to find my mother.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry dear. Do you have any leads?” she put a hand on Senki's shoulder. 

She wasn't sure if she should trust her but … “The last we heard of her was that she was working with rebels in the outer rim. They said she went missing.” She looked up into Cin's eyes, “Everyone thinks she's dead, but I know she's alive!” She managed to reign in her emotions this time. 

“Oh! Dearie! When did she go missing?” 

She wasn't going to give her the same old platitudes? “It was 3 years ago. I've been looking, but rebels are hard to find.” She smiled, “That we are my dear.” She stroked her chin. “I haven't heard of any of your people working with us,” 

Senki didn't realize it but she deflated a little. 

“I know! Good old Han coordinates with General Syndulla. If anyone here would have heard anything, it would be him!” 

That was excellent news! This felt almost too good to be true! … … Which usually meant that it was. She had her hopes crushed too many times before to … dammit. This always happened. She never learned. 

Cin stood from her stool and made her way to her desk, “I'll just message him about it and we can see if anyone knows.” 

From her right she heard the bass of Lom piping in, “What are the rest of your family doing about your ma?” 

“Oh, they helped at first, but after the first year they … gave up hope of finding her.” She rubbed her hands subconciously. “Last I heard, father was involved with an important dig and my sisters are studying at the university.” 

“Man, that's rough. I hope you find her,” he baritoned back. 

“You could stick with us. We have the best chance of finding her,” Dr. Cin spun her chair to face them. “We're also always looking for skilled doctors in our line of work.” She gave a freindly smile. 

She could stay. … It was probably be her best bet … but they didn't really want to find her mother, even if Dr. Cin did. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll stay with my new friends.” 

“You must have been on quite the adventure to want to stay with them,” mused Lom. 

“It has been an interesting few days,” agreed Senki. “They're good people.” 

“Well, Han says that he'll leave a message in the next dead drop. We should hear back in a week or so,” Cin smiled warmly. “The general is a good man, he'll help you.” 

Senki was somewhat surprised, “You convinced him to help just like that?” 

Cin grinned at her, “Oh, Han and I go way back.” She winked. 

Senki cocked her head. Was she … 

“Don't tease her. Han and her have been married 10 years,” scolded Lom. 

“Oh, you're no fun,” Cin pouted. 

Lom stuck out his tongue. “Still made me your lab assistant.” 

She playfully harumphed, “It's not my fault no one can boil ginta root like you.” 

They talked for some time before treating a man who had fallen off of ladder for a sprain and someone with a headache. All in all he next few hours passed peaceably enough. Senki had been about to ask Lom about his time with the resistance when a call came in on the emergency line. 

Dr. Cin rushed over to grab it. She looked troubled as she listened. “It seems that we've got an emergency down in the eastern garage.” She pointed at Lom, “Get the gurney and tell our emergency responders to get down there!” 

“Yes ma'am!” Lom snapped a salute and rushed into the hall. 

Cin turned to Senki, “Prepare the bacta tanks and get 4 scan tables ready!” 

Senki was getting a little over excited as adrenaline flooded her system. She mentally steadied herself and replied, “Absolutely!” 

Dr. Cin then went out after Lom. Senki was left alone in the medical wing. It took her only a minute to prep the tables and filter the bacta. She started to wash instruments and set out trays to use up time. … They still weren't back yet. … She could, umm … Check the ginta root! She went over and noted the ph values and … Where were they? Another 2 minutes of meaningless tasks later the others finally arrived. 4 stretchers carrying bodies and 2 walking wounded. 

“I'm telling you, it attacked Ituk with no provocation!” cried one of the standing men. 

“And I'm telling YOU, that I don't care! I've got 4 men in need of diagnosis and treatment!” shouted Dr. Cin without breaking stride. “Get them onto the tables!” 

As the others rushed to obey, Senki crept closer to the man who had shouted. “Who did this?” A wave of anger hit her. 

He glared and spat out, “Who do you think? That trandoshan tried to kill Ituk!” 

That definitely didn't sound like M'rut! He always seemed to have a reason behind his violence. She narrowed her eyes at him, but just as she was about to reprimand him Dr Cin called for her. 

“Senki! Get ready at surgery table three!” 

“You got lucky,” she transmitted into his mind. There was a look of complete shock on his face as she turned to go to the surgery table. She had work to do. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

“A broken back, a 'temporal fracture', 6 cracked ribs and a 'separated sternum'.” Han'soka set the medical report down on the table. “Fortunately for you they'll all recover.” He leaned in from his stool that served as his desk chair and looked at him over steepled fingers. “The ones you injured said that you attacked them unprovoked. Ocru tells me that they attacked you. I want you to tell me your side of the story,” 

M'rut stood at attention within the walk in closet that served as Han'soka's office. Everything screamed “appropriated,” in the small bored out room. The “desk” was a table with a a pair of dented filing cabinets at the ends. The guest stool had been set up for M'rut but he had decided to present the figure of a warrior, not a subordinate. As the once cheerful eyes bored into him, he suspected that Han had not missed the message. “They are both mistaken. I was loading the equipment onto hover pallets when they approached me. I continued when they attempted to provoke me.” He gave his report in a clipped professional tone, much like when he had reported his failure to his father back when this all started. Professionalism earned points when all else failed. “Their leader issued a challenge. When I confirmed his wish, he accepted. That was when I struck. The rest must have objected to their champion's defeat as they then attacked me.” 

There was a pause as Han mulled over his words. Did he not believe him? He didn't particularly understand twi'lek customs, perhaps - 

“Good. You didn't lie to me,” Han nodded his head, “That about matches what Ocru actually told me.” 

“You lied?” M'rut was taken aback. He hadn't smelled it over the simmering anger. He must be getting sloppy. But - 

“I gave you a percieved out to try and deceive me. You didn't take it.” He picked up a worn mug of coffee and leaned forwards, “Now, what the hell is this about a challenge?” 

Did Twi'leks not challenge? The noisy one certainly had been trying to. “Your warrior initiated a dominance fight.” M'rut unclasped his hands from behind his back and began to gesticulate with them. “I don't know why he did it, I have no pack to claim nor were we negotiating a deal. He -” 

“How did he 'challenge' you?” Han said as he took a sip. 

“He first attempted to provoke me and delay my work. We are meant to be allies so I told him to go away. He continued in his efforts until he entered my space, a clear challenge.” He was getting agitated by the memory and his hand movements were more erratic. 

Han blinked. 

“As a last effort to avoid a fight I demonstrated my own dominance and asked if he was challenging me. Like what you did just now.” There, that was everything laid out plain as day. 

Han looked at him for a moment in silence before speaking, “So he 'entered your space' and you separated his spine?” 

M'rut winced. “I forgot how delicate you all are! I didn't think he would be … “ 

“So I could try to murder you for walking into my office?” Han asked pointedly. 

“Er, well … You are elder of this clan, so yes.” Was he considering doing that? But they were meant to be allies! He needed to give him a reason not to! 

Han just watched him. 

“You did summon me, so it would reflect poorly on your … leadership?” Shit! That wasn't a reason! He knew what his father would say, “It's the mark of a clever leader to have lured his foe in and then defeated him.” He shrunk in a little on himself. This felt like his father's office all over again. He looked behind himself. Was he going to have to fight his way out of this base? … Filled with almost 200 twi'leks … 

Tiring of seeing him squirm, Han finally said, “How old are you son?” 

His scent had shifted. Perhaps this was a misdirection? No, this was pity? … Why … “Er, I'm seventeen, sir.” 

Han's eyes widened and a brief moment passed before he replied, “Damn. Did your daddy tell you about other species son?” 

M'rut was uncomfortable. He was not his father. Was he being claimed as a clan member? He already had a clan … even if they probably wanted him dead. “I ... was not briefed on the cultures outside the hutts and the t'doshok.' 

“The who?” 

Dammit. He had to pay more attention, “It means 'the people' in dosh.” 

Han looked at him quizzically. 

“It refers to trandoshans as a people. Like twi'lek” 

“Let me teach you a thing or two about us aliens then.” He stood up and walked around his desk into M'rut's space. 

He was feeling less comfortable and more like a subordinate. *gulp* Not good. 

“When we challenge someone we use our words, not our fists.” He held up his own as emphasis. 

… What? “But how do you know who is most fit to lead?” There was no way to tell just from words … was there? 

“Think of the words as their own battle. By hitting him you admitted that you had lost.” 

That … made a twisted sort of sense. The twi'lek had been losing the word challenge so he used M'rut's ignorance against him. He was truly clever … by these strange, alien standards. ”So even though he physically challenged me, I lost the word duel?” 

Han shook his head, “He won because you hit him first. You fell for his bait. If you hadn't of hit him he would have been made to look like a fool.” 

“But he brought weapons and smelled of violence...” <>“We may look down on violence, but that doesn't mean we don't practice it.” he gestured with his coffee mug, “Those were his men, they respect him too much to judge him for losing a, er …” He snapped his fingers, “Word duel!” 

“So they would have attacked me regardless?” This was making no sense. Did they challenge normally or not? 

“Probably, yes.” Han gestured with his mug again, “From what I saw that was planned as an attack. But if you had managed to convince the leader they wouldn't have.” 

Huh … “This sounds vaguely similar to the council of elders on Dosha.” 

Han shook his head, “Yeah, something like that.” He gestured at M'rut again, “The point is that when you're dealing with us aliens, use your words first. Like when you got the hangers on to leave the jedi alone.” 

Alright, he had done things like this before. Given speeches, inspired troops, he could do this. … What if there were other tricks? Hmmm, “How do I win these word duels?” He would master this like he mastered the staff! 

Han cocked his head, “You've never had to convince anybody without hitting them?” 

Of course he had! … Er, “It's just that most just respected my authority as a pack leader.” 

“And what of those that didn't?” 

“If it wasn't a challenge …” M'rut thought back, “I've had to convince elders and adjudicators of plans before.” 

Han pointed at him with his mug, “It's just like that then! You try to get them to see your way of thinking.” 

He could work with that. “No tricks?” 

Han shook his head, “There's always tricks, you just gotta know 'em.” He held up a finger for each count, “First, be friendly. You don't want to frighten them off. Second, threatening violence is just as bad as doing it. And third, remaining calm and relaxed will usually get you far.” 

“That's it?” That seemed more straight forward then - 

“Of course not!” He pointed at M'rut with his coffee mug again, “There's countless nuances, but I don't have time to teach you them all.” He paused and his scent shifted again. He was pleased by something. Han turned back to his desk and picked up a datapad which bleeped. “Why don't you go and practice this stuff? I've even got a perfect candidate for you.” He grinned predatorially at the end. 

M'rut didn't like that look. It boded ill for his health or his sanity. “After what happened, are you sure?” He HAD just sent 4 men to intensive care. He doubted any twi'lek would listen to him now. 

“Oh, you won't be dealing with my people, you'll be convincing one of yours.” * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Teth extracted the crystal from the housing of his lightsaber. The power source and soul of the weapon. This was no mere symbolism, the kyber crystal was alive. A conduit of the force, much like the jedi who wield them. Jedi did not choose the crystal, the crystal chose them. As a youngling in the caves of Ilum he had mastered his fears and they had found one another. They had not left each other's side since. He reverently placed his old friend on the folded cloth and - 

“What is taking so long!?” whinged Hep. 

There went the solemnity of the disassembly. *sigh* He turned with Lars to glare at Hep, “I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt Hep. This is a delicate procedure.” 

Unperturbed, Hep pushed on, “But what are you guys doing anyways?” 

“We're trying to remove the safety inhibitor on Teth's lightsaber,” Lars explained. 

It had been his suggestion to do so and it served as an excellent excuse for Teth to get away from the twi'leks. As he had feared, the very next day the rebels had taken M'rut's offer to heart. He was bombarded with questions until he had been rescued by Han. His rescuer however wanted his advice on the assault plan. He was no general in the war! He had just agreed to the plans during the meeting. He shook his head. Lars' suggestion was at least a break from - 

“I thought they were supposed to cut through stuff!” Hep enthused. He paused as something seemed to occur to him, “Why didn't you do that before you were captured?” 

Teth winced. This was embarrassing. “I was not instructed in 'how' to remove the inhibitor. I was training when the purge happened.” 

Hep cocked his head, “What's the purge?” 

Lars answered this one, “The purge was when the clones betrayed the jedi and killed them.” 

Lars was far too knowledgeable about these things, he had to ask. “Lars, were you a jedi?” 

Lars turned to face him. 

“You seem to be most knowledgeable regarding our ways.” 

Lars cleared his throat, “I wasn't a jedi, but I was on the staff at the jedi archives.” He scratched the back of his head, “I mostly repaired terminals and fixed the elevators.” 

Still! This was truly remarkable! Someone from the order … the implications were - 

“So you were a jedi janitor?” Hep gave him a thumbs up, “Nice.” 

Lars grinned, “I guess I was.” 

“How did you manage to survive?” So many masters had fallen but Lars had - 

“I was saved by a young padawan. He helped me to escape on a hover car. … He died in the attempt.” Lars looked down at the dark memory. 

“Well shit,” Hep said eloquently. 

“I'm sorry you were so close to the carnage at the temple. I only heard rumors of the brutality,” Teth tried his best to express his sympathy but it came out flat. 

Lars seemed too lost in thought to notice, “I tried to get him to a hospital, you know.” He wrung his hands, “I dragged him to the car and drove … He died right next to me and there was nothing I could do.” He rested his face in his hands a moment before dragging them down, “I took his robes as a way to …” He blew out a breath, “carry on his legacy.” 

“Fuck.” Hep was as straight forward as usual. 

Teth put a hand on his shoulder, “I'm certain that he would appreciate the gesture.” 

Lars gave them a sad smile before beginning to rummage in his backpack. He returned with … another lightsaber! “I kept this in the hopes of returning it to the order.” He frowned, “Not that that's likely anymore.” 

Teth was astounded but Hep beat him to the punch, “How did you keep that after the imps grabbed you?” 

Lars gave him a sideways smile, “I was arrested as a hacker, not a jedi.” He placed the saber next to its kin, “Once they found my tools stash they stopped looking very hard.” 

That was … disturbingly plausible. He had to know, “Have you practiced with it?” 

“Two jedi huh? We'll be unstoppable!” Hep had missed the point … again. 

Teth tried to reign him in, “There were thousands of jedi before the purge Hep, two won't be enough.” 

“I'm not a jedi actually.” Lars added. He looked over at Teth, “It felt wrong to use it so I mostly just held onto it.” He began to take the saber apart, “I did practice disassembling it though, couldn't help tinkering.” 

Hep's interest wavered then picked up again, “So you're some kind of mechanic as well as a hacker?” 

“Yes?” hazarded Lars. 

Hep leaned back, “I know a thing or two but I've always wanted to get some professional training.” 

Teth was seething at this. Hep didn't care about the jedi! He just wanted to use Lars! While they were trying to fix his lightsaber no less! “There is no emotion, there is peace,” he reminded himself. 

“Uh, I would be glad to assist you once we finish here.” Lars shrugged and gestured at the disassembled saber. 

“Uh, right. Probably should fix that first,” Hep said scratching the back of his head. 

Well, at least he could be brought back to the matter at hand. 

“Say, if you aren't using that saber of yours, can I have it?” 

Or perhaps he was just an arrogant child. “There is no emotion, there is no emotion” he thought. 

“I'd prefer if you didn't man,” Lars rubbed his hand through his growing stubble. 

“yeah, sure, so how are we going to fix the shmedi's saber?” Hep said casually. 

Teth's eye twitched. Shmedi?! What!? That didn't even - *sigh* It was either this or being followed around by a horde of twi'leks. At least here he could affect his aggravation. Plus there was someone else from the order! He could deal with Hep. 

“Well, first I'm going to finish disassembling mine so we can find the nullifier on Teth's saber.” 

“Say, could we use that nuli-whatever to make it so blasters won't hurt?” 

“I mean, if we had a power source like the crystal, sure.” 

“Cool, any idea how long this might take?” 

“A few hours I think.” 

Teth interjected here, “I don't suppose we could make that last longer?” 

“I could repeat the process, show you both how I did it.” Lars shrugged. 

“What? Already tired of your adoring public shmedi?” Hep said with a grin. 

“Yes, and it would be jedi, not shmedi,” Teth tried to contain his agitation. 

Hep's grin grew wider, “Sure thing shmedi.” 

*Sigh* This was going to be a long few weeks. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

M'rut felt like he was being set up. “Go talk to Wulfrik and help him train the rebels.” That seemed too easy. Wulfrik had been perfectly reasonable since they had formed their pack. Where was the challenge? He supposed that starting easy was a wise move. Build up his skills. Seemed unnecessary to him though. He walked into the large auditorium serving as the training hall. Inside he found … the twi'leks were practicing with sticks. They were all lined up doing what looked like form work. What was the problem here? … Besides the fact they were using sticks. He shrugged and approach Wulfrik who was bellowing out instructions. 

As Wulfrik saw M'rut's approach he shouted, “Alright, split into pairs and practice on each other .” The rebels grumbled and followed his instructions. He turned to M'rut as he approached. “These rebels are soft, but that's nothing training with Welkik blades can't fix!” 

M'rut cocked his head, “You mean sticks?” 

Wulfrik rolled his eyes, “We don't have enough swords to give them all - “ He turned towards a group who were quietly chatting, “That doesn't look like training!” 

A startled “Meep!” and a chorus of “Yes sir!” announced their return to practice. 

He turned back to M'rut, “Like I was saying, we don't have enough blades for the lot of them, so, sticks.” 

“Hmmm, do we have enough blasters for them?” While M'rut liked the idea, they were working with a limited time frame and resources. 

Wulfrik scratched his chin, “I think we do, but that's not going to get them into shape to fight the empire.” 

That was a fair point, “But if we don't train them with what we have, they won't be ready to fight at all.” 

Wulfrik pointed at M'rut's chest, “Any idiot can shoot a blaster. It's a coward's weapon. They said to make them warriors!” 

M'rut lowered his voice, “Remember, these people are weak, their definition of a warrior is different than our own.” 

Wulfrik made no effort to be subtle, “Ha! You'd know know about that wouldn't you!” He smacked M'rut playfully, “That was good work from what I heard. Six on one! Ha!” 

M'rut winced. Reminding the twi'leks of their defeat would not help in training them. He straightened, “We have to work with their capabilities not our own, and the equipment we have.” He prodded him in the chest, “Even your training won't make them warriors within a few weeks.” 

Wulfrik swatted away his hand, “Bah! You're worse than the snake heads!” He crossed his arms and huffed, “Fine, have it your way. We'll teach them to be cowards.” He pointed at M'rut, “But when it goes badly, it'll be your fault.” 

He grinned, “Agreed.” 

They both turned to look at the rebels. Most were only sluggishly moving at this point. 

“What's this!? Done after what? A minute!? Disgraceful! Take -” 

“Take five minutes and assemble back here! Dismissed!” M'rut interrupted Wulfrik's growing tirade. 

The twi'leks collectively shuffled to get water or collapse. Wulfrik glared at M'rut. “Stealing my class are you?” 

M'rut crossed his arms, “We now have five minutes to find enough rifles and ammo for them.” 

Wulfrik crossed his arms in return, “And what about their physical fitness?” 

“We switch off. Their cardio is atrocious but if they can't hit anything it won't matter. We should also work with what we have,” He pointed at the weapons wielded by the recruits, “Sticks won't cut it on the battlefield.” 

“And what would you propose we teach them to use?” 

“Simple, the rifle butts.” 

Wulfrik shook his head, “stormtrooper armor is impact resistant. Clubbing them won't work well.” 

M'rut suppressed a visceral flashback to his own fights with the corps. “They don't need to kill them with the butt, only knock them away.” 

Wulfrik cocked his head, “What good will that do?” 

They began to walk towards the armory, “Modern C.Q.C. techniques revolve around pushing your opponent away so that you can shoot them.” 

“If they can keep their head on long enough to do it,” Wulfrik said darkly. 

“Hmm, you think they'll run into more of those 'purge troopers'?” 

“I wouldn't count it out.” 

M'rut took out his datapad and made a note, “We'll add classes regarding defense against melee weapons as well then.” 

Wulfrik smelled embarrassed, “I've actually never used those C.Q.C. things you talked about.” 

“I can start out teaching those classes until you feel comfortable doing so.” 

“I'm sure I can pick it up fast enough in a few days.” 

The armory was busy but everyone gave the goliath's plenty of room to do their business. Ammo, rifles, and target dummies all on a hover pallet. They got dirty looks, which M'rut paid more attention to after the incident in the garage. The rebels got a few extra minutes of rest as the pair of them ran late getting back. It was time to run them through their less metaphorical paces. 

The shooting went well, the twi'leks were generally excited and passionate about learning how to defend themselves. The problem was when they had taken the squad leaders and split them into 2 separate classrooms. Everyone seated behind their own tiny desks, with a podium for him. Small unit tactics, M'rut's specialty. It should have been easy. Unfortunately the resistance fighters had decided that they would not listen to his wisdom. He had just finished explaining several techniques for luring superior foes into ambushes when a lavender woman with a visor had haughtily interjected, “Do you really expect us to take your word on combat tactics?” 

He had been waiting for a challenge. After the garage it was inevitable. Just remember, they are your allies. “I am an experienced hunter with 23 hunt contracts to my name. In addition, your elder assigned me to assist in your training.” 

The woman with the visor stood up, “And that makes me question his decisions too!” There were murmurs of agreement. 

Uh oh. This went to a deeper challenge than just him. Was she challenging AN ELDER?? Did she have no respect for her clan? How they had managed to get here? His blood boiled. 

“First he brings these aliens into our home, then he expects us to obey them?” she was talking to the crowd now. The dissenters were getting more vocal in their agreement. 

His blood went from boiling to ice cold. This was a legitimate challenge for this clan's leadership. By trandoshan customs he wasn't to interfere in another clan's internal power struggles. Han had been pretty clear however, they don't work like trandoshans. 

M'rut stepped away from his podium. All eyes turned to him. He had to make this count. Like in a real fight, break your enemy's roots, “How long has Han'soka served as your … leader?” He almost had called him alpha. He needed to remember where he was. 

She was taken aback at this, “What does that have to do with -” 

Keep pushing, “How long has he led your clan?” He increased the volume of his voice incrementally. 

She huffed, “19 years.” The others seemed to be paying more attention, looking for his point. Good. 

He took a few steps forward, “And in that time has he given you cause to doubt his leadership?” A few of the crowd were looking at each other. The scents were mixed. 

“His past is not in question, his current decisions are!” Murmurs of agreement. A good parry. 

Best to keep up the pressure, “Was he not chosen for this position by General Syndulla himself?” 

She recoiled slightly, “How do -” 

“Are you questioning his decision on who is best to lead here?” He was reasonably certain from what he had heard from Ocru that this Syndulla was the clan's councilor. Invoking his name made this a wider challenge than she might be comfortable with. 

“Of course not, but -” She had stumbled. 

Time to close in for the kill, “This isn't about Han at all.” He started to stalk towards her, hands clasped behind his back. “This is about your problem with me.” 

The others stood away or in between them as he closed the distance. She looked defeated but defiant. “Fine, yes. This is about you.” 

Good. Now they were getting somewhere. She wasn't finished yet however. Best to excise the wound before it becomes more infected. “And what is your problem with me exactly?” 

3 twi'leks stood between them, the rest having moved away. He could see her search for a diplomatic way to say it and fail, “You're a trandoshan! You eat children, you attack anyone around you, and you enslave our people!” She looked down and muttered, “Just like the other aliens.” 

Now they were getting somewhere productive. It was time to end this. He raised a digit, “One, among my people Ryloth is known for its big game, not it's slave trade.” He raised his other finger, “Two, I was attacked in the garage and have otherwise not even threatened anyone.” Not 100% true, but not the point. He stuck out his thumb for the final point, “And three, I don't know why everyone thinks we eat babies, hunting children has been illegal for eight hundred years.” 

The twi'leks seemed to be in shock. Whatever they had been expecting, this wasn't it. They awkwardly shuffled and seemed at a loss for how to proceed. Visor girl smelled thoroughly defeated and was hiding behind one of her protectors. 

All in all, M'rut thought that went rather well for his first word duel. To business then, “Now that that's out of the way, shall we proceed with what to do once your foe is in your trap?” 

The rebels meekly returned to their seats and were now much more attentive. They might even make reasonable hunters one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End rambles: You might have noticed that Han's character changed this chapter. I did a side piece of this section from his perspective and he came out as a tough yet friendly (US) southern farmer. That's also where his marriage with Dr. Cin came from. It was good to get the character dynamics between Hep, Lars, and Teth out there. Learned about senki's mom and Lars' tragic past. Good stuff. There were like 4 conversations that did not go the way I initially had envisioned them. For those of you who aren't writers this might sound weird (and to some who are), but I basically act out the scenes in my head and whatever the character says goes on the page. This doesn't always result in what I walked in wanting out of it. Does make it more interesting (to write) though.  
> Still good to be in M'rut's head. I have the easiest time writing him (almost like he's actually my character) and then probably Wulfrik. No avoiding it, Next episode will be the battle for Base Epsilon!  
> Cheers!


	14. The Battle for Base Epsilon Pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some startling news, the battle to claim outpost epsilon begins! The plan however continues to unravel as the fighting begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm late. Depression and then illness (not covid) crushed my will to write for a few months. Mostly played games until my will was returned! Now we're back and badder than ever. Kind of. I've got 2 stories now and will be switching between them at my leisure. So, maybe check the other out if you like my style.  
> I hope you will enjoy our next instalment.

7 Days Later, Free Ryloth Northern Continental Headquarters

The alarm woke M'rut like it did for the last week, but there was something different. The air was … electrified. Scents were agitated. Spiking. This wasn't normal. He sat up. 

“What's wrong?” came Senki's sleepy voice. 

“There's fear and excitement in the air.” He growled. “It smells like a hunt” 

Senki rolled out of bed rubbing her eyes, “I sense it too. Do you think we're under attack?” 

He didn't smell blood. Not necessarily an indicator but ... “No. We should get to our stations though. Our alphas will let us know about whatever the problem is.” 

Senki nodded and gathered her equipment. 

M'rut rushed to follow suit. He didn't bother to put on his vest and headed straight for the empty bay they had been using to train the rebels. Things had settled down into a sort of routine. He and Wulfrik had been drilling a seemingly endless stream of recruits, both veteran and new in the basics of combat. M'rut found it impossible to use the small twi'lek weapons and had left the target shooting to others. He excelled in the small unit tactics courses and basic C.Q.C. The others were seeming to fulfill basic functions beyond the skills or capacity of the rebels' personnel. Inside the bay was the armory master, waiting pensively atop some crates. He had taken to bringing the weapons and ammo down preemptively since the first day but his scent was all wrong. He knew what was happening and it had made him nervous. That was never a good sign. 

“You smell distressed gunnery sergeant.” It might be best to start this off by prompting him rather than a direct assault. Han's advice about thinking of conversations like fights had really helped. He had won 4 additional duels over the last week and the twi'leks seemed to be … respecting him. He wouldn't go so far as to say like, but it was amicable enough that most of the anger he had smelled was gone. 

The armory master looked up as if he had been startled. M'rut had not been quiet. If he was that distracted then they were in something serious. “Oh, liz- er M'root! We just got some bad news, but I'll wait for Han to make the announcement,” he smelled like he didn't like the news one bit. He rubbed the back of his neck as Wulfrik walked in. 

Wulfrik swaggered in looking like he didn't sense any of the ambient tension. Then again, with the mangled mass of scar tissue that served as his nose, perhaps he genuinely couldn't smell anything. He paused as he finally noticed the tension. “Who died and left you with the mess?” 

“The gunnery sergeant won't tell us the bad news.” M'rut wasn't feeling very generous to him. This was silly. 

“I – Er – L-listen, Han is going to brief everyone in a couple of minutes. Can't you just wait?” The armory master stuttered. 

Wulfrik sighed. “Alright then,” he pulled over an empty crate and sat down. “Who wants to play some sabacc?” he said, pulling out a deck. 

M'rut sighed and pulled out a deck that Hep had given him a few days ago while “trying to hide from the 'stick in the mud',” whatever that meant. In the middle of their second hand of sabacc the holoterminal leapt to life. 

Han stood there looking … very official. “My brothers and sisters, I have dire news. The empire has moved up it's schedule. As of last night the transport will be leaving in two days.” 

“Shit,” muttered Wulfrik. 

“What this means is we'll be attacking the compound tonight. Your area leads will give you your group assignments. This may not be when we wanted it, but we're ready. I know it. Good luck and may the force be with you.” The projection flickered and went out. 

They turned expectantly to the armory master. “There won't be any time to train the teams so you both will be directly reporting to Han today.” He stood up and brushed himself off, “I meanwhile, have cannons to load up,” and with that he marched off into the tunnels. 

“So I guess that means we go to Han's office then?” Wulfrik said with a shrug. 

“So it would seem,” M'rut replied. They both headed past twi'lek's rushing to their staging areas. The hallways were still packed with people as they found their way to Han's walk-in closet of an office. Senki and Teth were already there fidgeting awkwardly. The two hadn't seemed to have hit it off yet. Teth seemed to have that effect on people, and by the smell of the room it still hadn't improved. 

Teth looked up from his datapad and said, “We're waiting for Han to get back from the vehicle bay with Lars.” 

Hmm, that made sense, most of their vehicles were as piecemeal as Han's office, which left, “Where is -” 

“Nobody panic, the savior has arrived,” Hep's words dripped with sarcastic arrogance. 

M'rut could smell the irritation from Teth. Wulfrik shook his head with a wry grin. 

“So, shmedi, what's the big plan?” Hep leaned against the wall, projecting an air of smug satisfaction. 

This smelled like a challenge. If this was a trandoshan pack he would have beat sense into Hep. Challenges did not happen on the eve of battle! The pack needed to stick together! He wasn't certain if he was alpha of this pack, but he would straighten this out right now. Before Teth could respond M'rut stepped between them and turned to Hep, “You. Come with me” He jabbed him in the chest with his claw and stalked out. He heard Wulfrik snicker as Hep muttered something and followed him. 

“So what's up big guy? Wha … uh ...” 

M'rut turned and towered over him. “You will stop harassing Teth. Immediately.” He had initially planned something more subtle, but thought that Hep would better understand a straightforward response. 

Hep looked a little taken aback. “Harassing? That's just teasing. All in good fun.” He shrugged and tried to play it cool. M'rut could smell his fear. 

Time to make his point. “Teth does not see it that way. Even without his scent you can tell it upsets him.” 

Hep looked around awkwardly, “Well, the guy needs to lighten up. He takes himself too seriously.” He crossed his arms. “I'm just trying to bring him down to our level, maybe break him out of his shell,” he ended this with a shrug. 

He had no idea what this had to do with light and eggs but he apparently would have to be more direct. ”It is negatively affecting his performance when we are about to assault an imperial base.” He leaned in on Hep and bared his fangs. “If you continue to endanger this pack, I WILL deal with you personally.” At this distance he could see him sweating and smell the adrenaline surge as his body prepared for a fight or flight. He might have handled that too much like a trandoshan, but he needed results. Hurt feelings could only be solved if they were alive to fix them. 

Hep took a step back against the wall and stammered, “Y-yeah, s-sure thing. I'll, uh, leave him alone. Yeah.” 

He smelled too much of fear for M'rut to tell if he was lying so he decided to let it go. Perhaps he should try to lessen the blow? “I don't care how you two interact, but when it endangers the pack I take issue. Try to stop it for now.” There, that should do it. 

Hep seemed unsure of this. “Er, yeah. I'll - “ 

It was at that point that Han returned with Lars. “Well, I still appreciate you getting that - Ah, everyone's already here!” He gestured for them to follow him into his office. Lars waved and gave a friendly greeting. They all crammed into the tiny room where Han Activated a holo-display. It was a top down map of the imperial base. The base shrunk to reveal a ridge running along the left hand side of the base. “This is where the infiltration team, that's you, will make their way into base epsilon.” He gestured at a portion of the ridge, “The wall runs up to the this point on the cliffs. That will be your way in.” Other than that little detail, not much had changed from the plan they had been rehearsing for the past week. The main rebel assault would sneak into blaster cannon range and open up with a salvo of fire to take out the wall turrets and suppress the defenders. When the assault was truly underway the infiltration team would use Teth's lightsaber to cut their way into the base and get the command codes from the headquarters building. From there they would use the codes to get onto the ship and fly it to the southern continental base. “Simple” Han had called it. Only Senki and Hep seemed to buy it. There were so many factors that could go wrong, M'rut got anxiety just thinking on it. Unfortunately his concerns were dismissed in previous discussions and it was too late to change things now. So on with the plan they went. 15 hours later, Canyon wall, Base Epsilon 

The preparations went about as smoothly as one would expect. Half the fleet of ancient gasoline powered rattle cans needed repairs on the 6 hour journey and the munitions had nearly exploded in one of the gunnery trucks from a wayward death stick. It honestly could have gone worse. All 230 of the rebel fighters had managed to be “ready” in time to make the night assault, the few hovercraft had no problems, while his own “infiltration team” spent most of the time bickering. *sigh* Wulfrik had taken up probing Teth for weaknesses and Hep aided him where he could. M'rut hadn't been sure what he was after. As far as he knew, Wulfrik was a higher rank in the pack than Teth. Perhaps he sought to raise his standing among the twi'leks? No. Violence meant losing, surely Wulfrik knew that. He was after all a human. M'rut gave up on the reasoning during the second hour of' travel. The subjects flew fast and furious. Wulfrik boasted of how many imperials he was going to kill. M'rut … he hated to admit it, but he mostly brooded on the journey with its numerous stops to repair vehicles. 

The view from the canyon wall let them see the whole of the base that wasn't covered by the massive lander. The guards on the wall looked … attentive, nervous even. They were flush with heat, more than he thought warranted by the chill wind. M'rut lowered the magnoculars. Alarm bells were sounding in his head. The rebels didn't have secure communications however. Anyone with a wide band com link had a chance to pick them up. If they weren't walking into an ambush, he might warn the imperials they were coming. Not good. 

“Well, what do you see?” interrupted Wulfrik's voice. 

M'rut turned to look at him, “The imperials seem alert. I don't like it.” 

Wulfrik grabbed the magnoculars out of his hands, “Let me see that!” 

Normally that would be grounds for a challenge, but M'rut knew Wulfrik was not intending it as such. He just didn't seem to understand boundaries. “Hmmmm. You're right. I don't like it either,” he scratched his chin in thought. “We – ” 

“We need to get moving, the attack will be starting soon.” Teth said as he came from the front of the infiltration team. 

Wulfrik and M'rut looked at each other and shrugged. They followed the rest of the team along the darkened ridge before M'rut noticed something as they passed above the wall. It smelled of ozone. M'rut stopped. 

“What is it?” Wulfrik whispered. 

“It smells like an energy shield or a reactor.” 

“They didn't mention anything about a shield. Can the cannons punch through that?” 

M'rut lowered the magnoculars again, “No. We'll need to take it out if we're to have a chance.” 

The rest of the team had noticed their absence and returned to meet them. 

“The attack won't have a chance unless we destroy the shield generator guarding the turrets,” M'rut said putting the 3 thermal detonators he had been given within easy reach. With a little precision the powerful explosives should be enough to take out any generator. 

“Aye, and you lot should keep sneaking.” Wulfrik grinned viciously. “We'll be your distraction now.” 

The others looked at one another before Hep summarized their feelings, “Wait, what?” A barrage of whispered questions followed before M'rut silenced them. 

“The generator will make the cannons useless. While we neutralize that you all will continue the mission.” Apparently satisfied with his rigging, M'rut turned towards the edge of the cliff. 

“That is a 10 meter drop and the wall is 5 meters away. You will surely miss,” Teth tried to warn them. 

“What happens if you're hurt!” fretted Senki. Even Lars and Hep looked concerned. 

Wulfrik waved their fears away, “Bah, it'll be just like a low altitude drop. Tuck and roll.” 

Teth crossed his arms, “And what of the two hundred soldiers inside?” 

“They'll be too busy with the real assault soon enough,” M'rut countered. 

“Besides, it's you who'll be in trouble. You've got the stormtroopers.” 

Teth frowned and Hep suddenly looked much more concerned. 

M'rut scowled. “You have the jedi and soon enough they'll be more than busy. Now we need to move.” He turned back to the cliff face and made what little of a running leap he could. Wulfrik gave a mock salute and left the rest of them on the narrow animal path they had been following. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Teth was not happy about this. THIS was not a part of the plan. He knew that things seldom went according to plan in war, but he would have liked for it to wait until they made contact with the enemy first. The others were all looking at him. 

“Well, mr. shmedi, what's the plan?” Hep snarked at him sullenly. 

Right, he was in command of this team, even if M'rut and Wulfrik had been the ones issuing orders … and had more command experience … and had just leaped off of a cliff into the middle of an enemy base. *sigh* What was he doing with his life that these were his best options? Well, he had to make the best of it. He turned to them all and said, “We continue the mission. They'll meet up with us later. For now we've got to break into that base.” 

They followed along the animal path for a time. Strangely it was completely barren of defenses. There wasn't even a spotlight that passed along it. It struck Teth as unusually lax for military soldiers. Perhaps the clones had grown complacent after the separatist war? He shook such thoughts from his head. The path connected with the wall just up ahead. The lack of security continued even here, only one watchtower could see the point and no one was in it. This felt like a trap. Too late to back out now however. Teth activated his lightsaber. The blade cut through the inch thick durasteel like butter. It was good to have it back at full strength. 

“Woah,” said Hep. 

Lars nodded, “A lightsaber is indeed an impressive weapon.” 

Teth deactivated his saber before slowly lowering the “door” with the force. They made their way inside the compound. It looked much like the videos they were shown. Dirt floors flattened to form roads between military prefabricated buildings. Fences and the odd guard tower partitioned off the former holding pens from the rest of the base. The team was on an elevated gantry above the canyon where the walls touched the cliff face. Teth turned to see the white armored forms of a pair of – the world seemed to slow down. He blinked and when he opened his eyes he was face to face with two clone troopers. Men he had served with for the past few years, raising their weapons against him. No! There had to be some mistake! They wouldn't, they – He saw his master jump in the way and be shot to ribbons. The clones turned and – He was roughly shoved to the ground, breaking him from his vision. Two bolts struck the first stormtrooper sending him bouncing off the other. Lars stepped forward and activated his lightsaber. The blue glow cut through the night and the laminate armor with ease. The bisected trooper fell to the ground with a *thunk - thunk* The robes combined with the saber made Lars look like his old Master. 

He was shaken out of his reverie by Senki who said, “Teth are you all right? Did they shoot you?” She sounded frightened... 

Teth had to look down to make sure that he had, in fact, not been shot. “N-no, I'm fine,” he stammered. He had thought that he had put that behind him. It seems that it had only been buried. Delightful. No doubt Hep was going to use this to – Teth looked up to see Hep was actually looking concerned. He couldn't say if it was self-interest or something else but the duros was not pouncing on his weakness. Interesting. 

Hep noticed his gaze and scratched the back of his head. “Get up Mr. shmedi, we've got some snake heads to save.” He reached a hand down to him. 

Teth hesitated for a moment before taking the proffered limb. This was unlike his previous encounters with the “pilot.” He narrowed his eyes as he re-gained his feet. “No derogatory remarks?” 

Hep looked sheepish of all things, “Listen, I know a thing or two about bad shit in your past. Let's just get moving, alright?” 

Teth was uncertain of what to make of that, but he was right. Those twi'leks needed their help. He nodded and drew his saber. The others were staring at he and Hep. As Hep readied a retort the cannons spoke. Streaks of blindingly hot death arced high and crashed into the battlements. Only instead of hitting the armored defense turrets, they struck an energy shield. It seemed that M'rut had been right. This was not good. 

The towers unleashed counter battery fire, no doubt pinning the rebels in place. Teth dearly hoped that M'rut and Wulfrik would be able to deactivate the shield. The main attack would be slaughtered otherwise. Their team had made their way onto a covered gantry above the former prison yards. The locks had been no match for a lightsaber and now they had a clear look at the imperial's plan. 

“Man, that's a lot of them,” Hep idly commented. 

“It looks like the entire garrison is there...” Senki breathed. 

True to their words, dozens upon dozens of Imperial army troopers were assembling behind the main gates. Fire continued to rain down on the attacking rebels when at some unseen signal the entrance grinded open. With a roar the garrison charged out. 

“They're going to be slaughtered,” Lars said in horror. 

“We can't let that happen!” declared Teth. “We will have to destroy the towers ourselves.” 

“Shit,” Hep added in his usual reluctant tone while the others nodded their agreement. 

As Teth grabbed the railing to leap over, a physical wall of sound flattened him. Almost instantly after a deafening *BOOOMM!!!* shattered what little quiet there was. Teth's head was ringing like a church bell. He shook the worst of the cobwebs off and gasped at what he saw. This wasn't just the generator, more than half the wall had detonated as well! What had M'rut and Wulfrik done!? 

“Force preserve us ...” whispered Lars 

“What the F*%!* did they do!?” Shouted Hep. 

This went far beyond disabling the generator this was – Teth could see the clones rushing to the fires. Commando droids had blown the turbo laser batteries and by the noise, another attack was starting. Screams and blaster fire echoed in the city streets. He was in shock. He looked to his master for guidance. As his old mentor opened his mouth – 

Senki's voice came out, “Teth, we should use the opportunity to get the codes!” And he was back. 

He more felt her words in his mind than heard them. It still startled him when she did that. She was right though, they needed to get moving. “R-right.” He shakily stood back up. The generator and most of the wall seemed to have been replaced with chunks of plastcrete and a fiery inferno. A few scattered figures could be seen on this side of the “wall” stumbling about. To his lack of surprise an alarm was blaring loudly. More concerning was the stormtroopers rushing out of the inner compound. The good news was they didn't even look in their direction. Perhaps the force was with them after all. … Or the fire and screaming were a more pressing concern. The team steadied themselves against the railing and prepared to move out. 

Screams and blaster fire could be heard filtering through smoke of the front entrance. Teth suspected that M'rut and Wulfrik were still keeping the garrison busy. The inner compound was utter pandemonium. Running boots and panicked shouts ruled the fenced in structures and beyond. Few of the imperial army troopers payed them enough mind to warrant action. The command center was just outside the maze of chain linked corridors around the next corner. Most of the garrison should be at the front gate or trying to contain the fire. There was little reason for the command center to be – Marching out of the main door was a dozen stormtroopers. Uh oh... 

“Blast them!” came the sergeant's uncomplicated command. 

The two teams fought in brutal close quarters combat. Senki and Hep leaped for cover behind an entry console while Teth and Lars drew their sabers. Teth caught most of the first volley on his blade, directing one back into a trooper who crumpled to the ground. Lars managed to block 2 of the bolts despite his lack of training. Senki rained cover fire down on the stormtroopers, scoring a few glancing hits as they dove for cover themselves. Teth sensed something behind him and turned to see Hep shooting the downed trooper. The trooper had been raising his blaster on Teth's unprotected back. Hep stood a little and gave him a thumbs up. As he was about to shout a warning, a bolt flew past him and struck Hep squarely in the chest. A look of complete surprise was the only thing on Hep's face as he crumpled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He got shot! It really isn't our heroes' day is it? Will Hep make it out of this alive? Were M'rut and Wulfrik killed in the blast? Am I going to take another 3-5 months to release a chapter!? Find out on our next exciting instalment!  
> I never stopped writing during my break, I was just doing like 1-2 sentences most nights. "Then why isn't this longer?" I hear you think. That would be because this is half of the chapter that I had intended to release last Saturday. The thing was, I just wasn't getting to the end point. 2 more pages written and I wasn't at the end. Thus I split the chapter in half. I sent it to CrazyRabbidSquirrel, my editor and then their computer died. R.I.P. Took us a few days to get a work around, and here we are. The next chapter is done and awaiting Squirrel's attention, but I'll likely hold it back for when I fail to finish the next tangled web chapter by next week. (I'm a pessimist, so sue me) I hope to churn these out at a much faster speed until I inevitably crash and burn for a while. I do however have my for honor work that I will be splitting my attention between. Check it out if you like the idea of medieval combat, mystery, and even a bit of romance. If not, well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. (I won't make a habit of self plugging, this is just the first time I've posted in the hunt since I started that)  
> Stay safe out there.


	15. The Battle for Base Epsilon Pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew come to their senses after the detonation of the shield generator and the battle proper begins! Now the remaining team must fight past the imperials and secure the transport before it takes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I said I'd keep this in reserve, but I'm not some professional with a release schedule. I finish it, you get it. Hot out of the oven!   
> Thanks to CrazyRabbidSquirrel for proof reading.   
> Enjoy.

5 minutes earlier, Base Epsilon

The explosion still rung in M'rut's ears as he picked himself up from the shockwave. “I thought you said it was going to take out the walls' defenses!?” he shouted through his deafening. 

“The walls ARE a part of the defenses!” Wulfrik shouted back. 

Another secondary explosion went off behind them. “You knew!?” This was rather more indiscriminate than he liked. 

“I knew the gas line ran through there! I just didn't expect their blaster cartridges to be unshielded!” He brushed off the dust and drew his greatblade. “Now are we going to get moving or do you want to complain some more?!” With that he started walking towards the main gate. 

M'rut shook his head. In for a gram, in for a kilo he supposed and followed after Wulfrik. The outer wall was in tatters. Burning holes marked where ammo must have been cached and only what could be called rubble remained of most of it. Bloody chunks were all they found of the garrison until they made it to the relatively intact front gate. It looked like the road was carpeted with bodies. Many were getting back up, but many more stayed down. With all the blood and burning in the air M'rut couldn't tell if they were alive or not. Dozens were following the shouted orders of an officer. Even more were arriving from the road. Crying and screams could be heard over the crackling fires. The rebels had also recovered quickly and began firing on the shattered rubble. Imperials dived for cover. With a collective roar M'rut saw the rebels rise from behind the rocky outcroppings and charge. The officer began organizing resistance and shouted for an e-web repeating blaster cannon. That would simply not do. “We need to take out that - “ M'rut started. 

“The officer, I know. Should make the rest panic,” Wulfrik interrupted, popping his neck. “Let's get going.” 

M'rut put a hand on his shoulder. “I have a better idea.” He gestured at a piece of wall that formed a ramp of sorts to the portcullis. ”What do you say to an aerial attack?” 

A brief flash of indignation was quickly replaced with a malicious grin. “I like that plan.” 

With that they started up the wall. The imperials had started to form lines and fire on the charging rebels. “I've got the officer, break up the fire teams.” M'rut said. 

“Right.” replied Wulfrik. They both leapt off the remains of the wall straight into the enemy. 

The officer looked up and had enough time to shout “Shoot that th -” before M'rut's pike ended him. From that point on it was pandemonium. 

Wulfrik sliced a pair of startled army troopers in half before letting out a howl. 

M'rut punched his dagger like claws through the face plate of one trooper before throwing his body into the startled form of another. He ripped his pike free and pocketed the officer's cap before looking for centers of resistance. Blaster bolts struck the ground near him. M'rut followed Wulfrik's lead and let out a roar as he charged a knot of 4 troopers. 

One trooper actually dropped his blaster as another froze. A bolt struck him square in the vest but M'rut brushed off the pain. The fourth's bolt went wide as M'rut was upon them. He brought the pike down and shattered one's breastplate before bringing up the reverse stroke between another's legs. The third tried to bring his blaster up but had it swatted out of his hands. M'rut picked him up and slammed him into the last trooper who stood there frozen. They both groaned underneath him as he looked to see how Wulfrik was doing. 

Wulfrik was in the middle of 2 fire teams swinging wildly. Limbs flew through the air and screams were suddenly cut short. It seemed that he was doing well. As the last body fell, Wulfrik turned to him and shouted, “How many have you got so far!?” 

“Seven!” M'rut shouted back. A blaster bolt struck the nearby wall. 

“Ha! Not bad for a new blood! You might be competition when you're older!” Wulfrik bragged. 

Given that there were 8 men in the pile around him, M'rut couldn't dispute that as much as his pride wished to do so. He decided to instead take it as a compliment. Another bolt struck nearby. “I think they're starting to regroup!” M'rut shouted across the gap. It was then that he heard the whine of an E-web repeating blaster cannon starting up. M'rut dove out of the gate towards Wulfrik's position. 

“Damn. A bit inconvenient, that.” Wulfrik said thumbing at the tripod as bolts tore chunks out of the earth. 

M'rut took a quick look out before being rewarded with a spray of plastcrete dust. The cannon had been deployed in the guard tower overlooking the barracks by the gate. At least the imperials had started using their brains. The hunt had been starting to look dull. “Do you still have any of those thermal detonators left?” he asked Wulfrik. 

“I do, but there's no way you're making it close enough to throw it.” As if to emphasize the point the E-web got tired of waiting and began to tear chunks out of their cover. 

M'rut picked up one of the slain troopers and said, “I'll bring my cover with me.” 

Wulfrik looked confused until M'rut began to hook his pike under the armor straps of several of the more intact troopers. He gave a wicked grin and said, “That's nasty. I love it.” He handed over the thermal detonator before asking, “What do you want me to do while you're doing that?” 

M'rut clipped the detonator to his vest. “Use one of these rifles to lay down covering fire. Also keep an eye out for any more teams beyond the gate that you might have missed.” 

Wulfrik scoffed and picked up a blaster rifle. 

M'rut readied his “shield” and held up his other hand, lowering a digit with each count. “Three. Two. One.” On the final count he sprang forth. Immediately bolts rained down onto his “shield.” He sprinted as pieces of his cover were being ripped away. Dammit, this wasn't working as well as he thought it would. Another couple meters before he could throw it. Dammit, he might no make it. Suddenly the fire slackened. M'rut peeked from behind his “shield” to see the gunner being thrown away and replaced. He looked back to see Wulfrik give him a thumbs up. M'rut pulled out the thermal detonator and ran the last few meters. “This should be close enough,” he thought and lobbed the grenade as the turret started back up again. His “shield” started to lose it's integrity and he ran for the remains of the shattered wall opposite Wulfrik. The tower detonated spectacularly. There must have been some munitions or something in there as a series of further explosions sent chunks of plastcrete high into the air. 

The fire from the troops slackened immediately. M'rut disposed of what was left of his “shield” and looked at Wulfrik. 

He was already sprinting with his sword drawn. “What are you waiting for? An open invitation!?” Wulfrik shouted as he ran. “Let's get in there!” 

M'rut needed no more encouragement and let out a roar of challenge. The pair of them made their way through the smoke and dust of the explosion. M'rut could see a group of army troopers almost in the debris cloud with his thermal vision. Their best shot at making it into the regrouping imperials. He tapped Wulfrik and pointed towards the weakness. They charged through the smoke into the midst of the unfortunate squad of troopers. 

M'rut leapt into them, impaling one to the ground. 

As the other 4 turned to face him Wulfrik stormed out and cut the first in twain. He shouldered the second to the ground and brought the blade up, taking his head. 

A trooper turned back to look at Wulfrik and let out a scream of raw terror. M'rut rammed the sharpened end of his pike through his chest. He dragged the now weighted end back and brought the shock prod crunching down on the last trooper's helmet. Shattered plates bounced off of M'rut's chest as the pair turned to face the startled army troopers. M'rut counted over 80 with stormtroopers coming in behind them. 

“I've got the ones on the right,” Wulfrik said, popping his neck. 

“Good hunting,” M'rut replied. This was a worthy death. Surrounded by hundreds of fallen enemies. He just wished that it would have been alongside his kin. He would have to hope these points would be enough. 

As the pair of goliaths roared forwards and rifles were brought to bear, their cry was taken up from behind the wall of smoke. Hundreds of rebel fighters screamed out of the dust cloud. Blasters fired and M'rut could hear Hansoka shout, “For a free Ryloth, for a brighter future, and for our families!!” The rebels roared like a great beast and combat was joined. 

M'rut saw the ripple of panic pass through the imperials. Their morale teetered on the edge. It was time to break it. A bolt struck him in the side and he hissed in pain. Two more struck the body he had taken as a shield. 

Some of the troopers who had turned to fight the rebels now looked back at him, fear setting in. 

With an earth-shaking bellow he tossed the body from his pike into the amassed army troopers. 4 of the 7 were bowled over as M'rut made contact. He made a jumping attack into the throat of the first who fell gurgling. 

A bolt from one of the ones on the ground struck his stomach point blank. The emotions that had been seeking release since he had been banished had found worthy prey. These weren't some beast or fools offering challenge, these threatened the safety of his clan and pack. He could feel the frenzy of battle taking hold of him. It strained against its leash. He brought his foot down on the offending trooper's head, sending plasteel flying. With another roar he swung the shock head of his pike like a baseball bat, sending another trooper bodily into the air. 

“Now that's just showing off!” shouted Wulfrik from somewhere to his right. 

M'rut didn't hear him. He could smell their fear over the cordite and blood. It felt like a drug. - No! He needed to keep his head. He needed to – A blaster bolt punched one of his foes off of his feet and the spray of blood sent M'rut over the edge. 

He hissed and impaled one of the recovering troopers, but this time he left his weapon. Everything was a blur of instincts and flashes of images. He saw the look of terror in a troopers eyes as he ripped his throat out with his teeth. He remembered the satisfaction as he ripped one's arm off as he had turned to flee. 

The last army trooper ran for his life. He broke the floodgates that had been holding them back and all the imperials began to first retreat and then run. All save the stormtroopers. The army was in a total rout. The corps didn't take a backwards step. 

Lances of energy flashed between the rebels and the stormtroopers. “Stand and fight, cowards!” commanded an officer from the corps. When they didn't listen, bolts began screaming into the fleeing troopers. A strange 3-way battle broke out as some the remaining army forces returned fire while others finally obeyed. 

M'rut's mind had retreated into itself and his instincts loved this bounty being offered up to him. As he was about to start the feast … something was wrong. … The pack was in danger! Pain. Pain and rage. He had to help. M'rut had no idea how he knew, but he had to act. The allied clan would finish the foes here. He must attend to his pack. So said his instincts. 

Wulfrik had just reached him and let out a breathy chuckle. “My total is now sitting pretty at twenty seven imps,” he said smugly. “Now what is – Hey!” 

Before he could finish M'rut was off loping towards the prison complex. 

Wulfrik looked taken aback. “You forgot your …”He gave up as M'rut didn't even slow. He shrugged and ripped the pike free. “Crazy lizard,” he muttered as he set off in pursuit. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Teth stared for a moment before the force warned him of another shot. He deflected the blast at the trooper but failed to hit. Hep had been shot! Already he could see Senki frantically tending to the injury. This was not good. He sidled closer, sending a bolt back into a trooper who was knocked to the floor. Teth glanced at the injury. Force preserve him. There was a hole in Hep's chest cavity that leaked blood everywhere. 

Senki looked up and shook her head. He wasn't going to make it. 

Lars had taken up his pistol and was attempting to cover them. He didn't seem to know Hep's fate.. 

So, *cough*, how bad does it look?” Hep muttered weakly from the ground. 

“You will be up and fighting in no time friend,” Teth lied. This brought back too many memories. His master, the clones he had fought beside, colleagues. He had lost too many to these wretched imperials. He felt the darkness swelling around him, gathering to his will. He would make them pay in blood. 

The dirt began to swirl at the gathering of power. Lars himself was suppressed and the stormtroopers began to advance. 

Teth was about to stand up when he heard Senki gasp. He turned to see Hep's wound … closing. This shouldn't be possible. That technique was almost unknown, how? … It was then that Teth noticed the energy he had been gathering draining … into Hep. Was it possible? He wasn't the – 

“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!” Hep let out a scream and sat bolt upright. 

A stormtrooper loomed over their console and brought his rifle up. To Teth's horror, he saw Hep's eyes turn a sickening yellow color from their normal crimson. 

The trooper froze. The rifle dropped to the ground. He began to claw at his armor as though something had crawled beneath it and he began to scream. He fell to his knees and with the last of the gathered force energy Hep hurled him backwards. 

“It's not just lightsabers, they're jedi!” shouted the sergeant. He made a few curt hand gestures, “Radio command and get the inquisitor, go! We'll cover you.” Boots thunked on plating. 

“We need to get in there and stop him!” shouted Lars over the blaster fire. 

A chunk of the console flew by Senki's head. “I'm open to suggestions!” she yelled back. 

In the meantime Hep was staring at his hands and chest in disbelief as Teth did the same. “You, you're ...” Teth stammered. 

“I can use magic!” Hep declared. “Now take this!” He stood and held his arms out towards the troopers dramatically. The fire slackened as troopers dove for cover. 

Nothing happened. 

Hep looked at his hands as the blaster fire started back up. “Ack!” Hep dove back behind the smoking wreckage that was a console. He looked at Teth, “What gives?” 

Broken from his disbelief Teth responded, “You haven't learned how to gather the energies of -“ His explanation was cut off by an unearthly roar. 

“Please tell me that isn't more of those spider things,” Hep begged. 

“No, I don't think so,” Teth said almost absentmindedly. It almost sounded familiar. 

The blaster fire wavered again as a howl answered it from behind them. Whatever it was had them surrounded. 

“Retreat by pairs into the command center!” ordered the sergeant. 

The fire picked up as Teth heard clattering from in front of them. He peaked over to see a great obsidian figure lifting a stormtrooper into the air as it clutched another by the helmet. The others stared at the creature in shock. 

“What are you doing, blast it!” and like that, it was as though a spell had been lifted. 

“Awwoooo!!!” a second howl from behind the infiltration team drew all their attention. A projectile flew through the air and was closely followed by a second, much larger object. 

M'rut's pike impaled a turning stormtrooper's head to the concrete wall. With a flash of a blade another was cut in half. To Teth's lack of surprise, the form revealed itself to be Wulfrik, which meant … 

Laminate exploded as the trooper's body slammed into the building. With another roar M'rut bit down on the neck of a screaming trooper. The remains of the squad were scattering as M'rut launched himself at the next one. His body was thrown into an escaping pair of troopers. 

Wulfrik settled next to the party and watched the carnage. “It's a thing of beauty,” he said with a sigh. 

They all looked at him like he was mad. 

“In a primal monster sort of way,” Wulfrik shrugged. 

“Well why don't you just go and propose to him then?” Hep said sarcastically. 

A severed arm landed nearby. 

“I think I'll pass on that.” Wulfrik seemed to have remembered something and tapped his forehead. “Oh yeah, he lost his mind earlier. Started roaring and eating imps. It was grand.” 

“He what!?” shouted Senki. 

Hep was busy being sick and Teth wasn't far behind him, although for slightly different reasons. He was having another flashback. Geonosis. Inside the tunnels of a hive, his squad had been eviscerated by the warrior elite of the bug like sentients that ruled the planet. Chunks of meat covered in white armor stained red. The creatures had come for him too but his master had arrived and – 

Lars shot the last trooper with a stolen rifle and approached the group, “Did anyone stop that stormtrooper going for communications?” 

Oh no. That broke Teth from his dark memories. The inquisitor would be coming! “M'rut!” he shouted. 

M'rut looked up at him from the remains of a pair of troopers. There was a feral glint to his normally intelligent eyes. Whatever was there, M'rut wasn't home. Blood dripped from his snarling maw. 

“What are you doing?” hissed Hep. 

Lars stood in front of them with Wulfrik. 

“Pointing him in the right direction,” Teth whispered. He mustered what courage and oratory skills he had picked up on the battlefields of the clone wars and made his gamble, “There are more enemies inside that building. We need to stop them.” If he was right, then M'rut was somewhere inside there. He just had to re-focus him. He also doubted the blood was helping. 

There was a brief moment before “M'rut” took his eyes off the party and looked at the command center with deadly intent. Like a blur, he was off. 

Teth turned to Senki, “Can you reach his mind and pull him back?” 

“I've been trying, but he's in a lot of pain and rage. He's terrified.” she said in an almost anguished voice. 

“ _HE'S_ terrified?” asked Hep incredulously. 

“He sees his family being killed, over and over again.” Senki said in a low voice. 

M'rut ripped his pike from the impaled trooper's head and loped inside. 

The group was silent as the they followed M'rut to the entrance. Senki began to search the bodies for something, Teth wasn't sure what. 

Lars followed after her. “That was a nice throw, while you were moving too.” 

The comment broke Wulfrik from his thoughts. He looked up and shrugged, “I was aiming for his chest.” 

Teth ignored them and followed M'rut into the command center. He was relieved to find no bodies, although the trail of blood seemed to show him his path. 

“Are you seriously following him in?” asked Hep, clearly thinking him mad. 

“Yes,” he replied. Teth didn't have the will to deal with Hep right now. 

“It's your funeral,” Hep shouted from the doorway. 

What was he going to do about Hep? He wasn't the last jedi anymore. Or he should say the only force sensitive. He was the only one with training. He'd have to take the irritating duros under his wing. What joy. With his attitude he was more likely to turn out like the inquisitors, evil and vindictive. 

From up ahead he heard “Yes general, at least one with multiple lightsabers present.” 

“And was there any sign of a trandoshan among them?” another voice replied. Older, perhaps an upper-class accent? 

“No sir, but from the soun – Ahlck!” the first voice was cut off with a sickening crunch. 

A hiss slithered down the hallway to Teth. 

“M'rut.” the second voice said icily. “Your name has crossed my desk far more than it should have. Do you know how many lives you've destroyed? How much money you've cost us? You're a monster and I will see that you pay.” 

That didn't quite fit M'rut's story. He would need to have a word with their wayward trandoshan. 

“There is only one imperial that I want to see dead, general Sturn,” the self-same trandoshan growled. 

“How do you - “ the voice began. 

“I know more than you realize, like the real reason you're hunting me.” M'rut certainly sounded much more sane than before, and more than a little smug. “You don't care about the lives of the hunters you sent or even those on the shipyard. You care about the position I costed you. Moff Sturn.” 

“You can't know – “ 

“Your officers are not as circumspect as you think general.” 

There was a loaded silence before the voice spoke again, “You want to finish this right now? Wait by the base. I'll be coming for you.” and with that the line went dead. 

M'rut let out a roar. “Finally!” 

That wasn't good. Teth exited from his cover, “M'rut, we need to get out of here.” If the general was coming then things were about to get hairy. 

“You go, I have a date with the general,” M'rut said as he began to pace. 

“M'rut, you know it's a trap, he obviously just wants to keep you here.” 

M'rut whirled on him, “You don't understand! This might be my only chance to return home!” He sounded desperate, almost plaintive. 

“Then are you going to really just leave those people to their fates?” It was a low blow, but from their time together, he thought it would get through to him. 

M'rut hissed and turned away, pacing faster. Like a caged beast. 

Teth continued to push, “Fighting him at a time and place of his choosing, WHILE you're injured – ” 

M'rut looked down at his numerous chest wounds. 

“ - is a fool's task. We know he wants you, we can use that to draw him out. Later.” 

M'rut heaved a sigh, “Fine, you've made your point.” He turned and plugged his datapad into the console. “Let's get those launch codes.” 

Teth was relieved. His curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “How did you break out of that … rage state earlier?” 

M'rut glanced over his shoulder, “I didn't. I needed to use my words to hunt so I focused on that. It was when you reminded me of the innocents on the ship that I came back.” 

Hmm. It still sounded odd to have a trandoshan motivated by danger to innocents, but he supposed they couldn't all be selfish creatures. M'rut had certainly proved that with his words and his actions today. This enraged state still worried him. “Are you likely to fall back into that state?” 

M'rut shrugged, “If we run into Sturn while I'm injured, probably. The exact causes for the berserker's trance are unique to each trandoshan. If my soul calls out for something in a fight, then I'm likely to return there.” 

Teth wasn't quite used to hearing of other religions outside the force, “Your soul?” 

The datapad 'bleeped' and M'rut unplugged it. He shrugged, “It is brought on by fear and desire. Not everything can trigger it. We have no control over what will cause it to happen.” 

They began to make their way back out. “So does every trandoshan do that?” Teth asked. 

“No. Self-interest doesn't seem to cause it, only a desire to protect others. … Except in one clan I know of, but they claim that to be a curse.” 

“Would you have attacked us?” 

M'rut paused at that, “I can't say for certain, but I don't think so. We performed an ad-hoc pack bonding ceremony. Such things have meaning.” 

Hmm … There were implications to that. Before Teth could follow up, they spotted the rest of the party. Senki and Lars were working on something to the side while Hep and Wulfrik debated something. 

“I still think 'the blue death' sounds best.” said Hep. 

“Bah, anyone can be the blue death, you need to emphasize your abilities,” responded Wulfrik. 

“'Pain hands' makes me sound like a crazy masseuse.” 

“The disabler?” ventured Lars. 

“I mean, it's better than – Oh he's alive.” Hep broke from the conversation and headed towards Teth. “We're deciding on my jedi name, what do you - “ upon seeing M'rut he ducked behind Teth. 

Teth was going to have to start educating Hep immediately. He clearly had no idea what being a jedi was about. At least M'rut seemed to have mentally recovered for now. “Jedi do not have - “ 

“What did you do with your powers?” interrupted M'rut. 

“He made a guy claw at his skin and then threw him.” shouted Wufric. 

“Ravager.” decided M'rut. 

“Huh, that's not bad. Makes me sound menacing.” Hep said, still keeping Teth between he and M'rut. 

“Did you guys get the codes?” asked Lars. 

“Yes, and the general that M'rut is supposed to kill is coming with reinforcements.” Teth answered before the trandoshan could. They might as well get that detail out now. 

M'rut gave him a hard look. 

“So let's set up an ambush and take him out,” grinned Wulfrik. 

“He won't be alone and we are injured. It would be best to regroup and hit him when we're ready.” Teth was glad that M'rut still agreed with him on this. 

“It's your plan, so let's get moving,” Wulfrik shrugged. 

“What about your points?” asked Lars. 

“An old proverb applies here, A dead hunter gathers no points.” 

“Yes, let's get these people to safety.” said Senki. 

The engines of the transport ship suddenly began to wind up for take-off. They were almost out of time and the gantry stairs were 30 meters away. To make matters worse, M'rut was starting to slow down. 

They were almost there when a blaster bolt struck by their feet. The team scattered behind the scaffolding around the ship. 

“Aw shite, we forgot the guards for the ship!” shouted Wulfric as he pulled out a blaster rifle. 

He and Lars returned fire. Teth told Senki to stim M'rut. They needed everyone to get moving, and fast. Assuming it took as long as one of the republic's old transport haulers it would only be 2 minutes before takeoff. 

Senki did as she was asked and M'rut rapidly looked more lively. A stormtrooper's body fell from the gantries above with a scream. 

In response, a shot impacted on Wulfrik's armor. “Dammit! It'll take forever to buff that out.” he complained. 

“We have less than a minute to get inside.” Teth informed the party. It wasn't strictly true, but they needed to get moving. 

A blaster bolt struck the scaffolding, “Any plans for that guy?” Hep said, ducking down. 

Wulfrik got an evil look on his face, “Lizard, are you up yet?” 

M'rut nodded. 

“Electromancer, get ready to shoot.” 

“You got it.” Lars responded and rested his rifle on a pipe. 

“Alright, so what's this plan of yous?” Hep added testily. 

Wulfrik gave him a nasty grin, “M'rut, toss him up a few levels.” 

Hep backed away, “Wait, hold on. I don't – Aauughh!” 

The stormtrooper popped out and started firing on Hep. Both Wulfrik and Lars returned fire. 

“Up the Stairs, Go!” 

They sprinted up as fast as they could, catching Hep scrambling over the railing. “You could've gotten me killed!” he panted. 

M'rut picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. 

“Hey!” 

By Teth's count they had used up 30 seconds so far. 

A bolt struck the railing and then from below a, “Got him!” could be heard. 

Sure enough, they found the other stormtrooper with a neat hole blown through his helmet. 

“M'rut, would you get the door?” His strength would be needed to pry open the hatch just like – 

*Beep – swoosh* 

– or not. Teth felt rather stupid for not thinking to try the door. 

That's when Wulfrik and Lars joined them. “Ha, a headshot! I told you it was.” laughed Wulfrik. 

Lars handed him 5 credits. “A bet fairly won” 

Teth internally shook his head. Beggars certainly couldn't be choosers however. “Let's get in there.” 

It was not hard to find the bridge, the ship was mostly a few large cargo holds with corridors running alongside them. 

“Even the corridors reek of fear and desperation,” growled M'rut. 

“I can smell it too.” whispered Wufrik. 

They ran into 1 stormtrooper before making it to the bridge. He did not last long with M'rut and Wulfrik in the front. Another was taken out guarding the entrance to the bridge. If you could call a compartment only big enough for 4 such a thing. 

*Snap* went the guard's neck as they opened the door. He had gotten off a shot so surprise was no longer an option. The pilots stood as they entered but M'rut was on them in a moment. 

“Sacred spirits, the rebels got onto the ship!” cried one of the pilots. 

The issue now would be getting the ship to the rendezvous point. Teth wasn't sure that Hep could fly such a large vessel. What if – 

M'rut shoved the pilot down into his seat and Wulfrik did the same with the other. 

“You're taking us to these coordinates,” M'rut said, handing the pilot a data pad. 

“Why would I possibly - “ the man in front of M'rut began. 

The trandoshan growled and bared his fangs, “Because you have just joined the rebellion. Welcome aboard.” 

Wulfrik grinned and cracked his knuckles, “You're in for a treat.” 

The pilot gulped and turned his seat back to the front. “R-right, long live the rebellion,” he stammered. 

The ship began to lift off. 

Huh, that was easier than Teth had anticipated. Perhaps their luck was turning. They certainly could use some after the operation today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was an action packed episode. Lot's of death and violence as well as some ultra violence. Also the primary cause that I decided on an archive warning about violence on the story. I'm curious how many of you thought that Hep had actually died. He and the other not giants, are rather fragile.   
> Hep had a brawn of 1. For reference, M'rut has a brawn of 4/5 out of 6. Wulfrik has a 4, Lars and Senki have a 2. Those of you who haven't played the force and destiny rpg(there are other expansions too), brawn is both toughness and strength.  
> The session that this came from had us sneaking into the back while a much smaller group of rebels committed suicide at the gate. M'rut was not okay with this and joined them, leaving the rest of the team to sneak in. Wulfrik's player was unfortunately not there for this section, but I thought he'd join M'rut at the gate. Continue their budding bromance. Hep did indeed get shot and almost lose all of his health and it was a communications officer instead of the general. Most of the combats actually happened but with smaller numbers ect.  
> Well, I hope you enjoyed this action packed chapter and you'll come back for the next one!  
> Stay safe out there.


End file.
